The Smell of Desperation

During the past few days, I've received a few phone messages from the guy who was my mortgage broker when I bought my home more than four years ago. As you might guess, we haven't stayed in touch but now he seems very concerned about my well being.

In fact he'd like to see me rework my mortgage. This from the guy who looked at me like I was from Mars a few years ago when I told him that I didn't want an adjustable rate mortgage because there was a good chance that the economy was going to tank in the future. Turns out my judgment was right and his was wrong. Based on his expertise, I doubt he'd be the agent I'd like to talk to about reworking my deal.

But the dude also undermined himself in something he said: "Give me a call from now until midnight and after 10 a.m. tomorrow." That tells me that either he's so desperate for business that he's putting the rest of his life on hold or that he's working 14 hour days. Neither scenario gives me confidence in him.

There's a good chance that he may help some people who are unable to pay their mortgages. Of course the problem might be with the deals he worked on a few years ago. Nevertheless, by making himself so available, at a time when I haven't identified his services as as need, his sales pitch smells of desperation.

What could he have done? If the housing market had stayed strong, I might have been looking to move. Had he kept in touch with me, through something as simple as a holiday card, he would have stayed top of mind. Perhaps he could have shared examples, in a blog or a newsletter, of how he helped other people with their mortgages. By sharing his expertise, I might have come to the conclusion that his services could help me.

Right now I'd feel more confident trusting a circus clown with my money. At least then, I'd know going in that the smile I'm seeing may not be real.