status viatoris – being ‘on the way’/being in a state of pilgrimage
Wanting to avoid all possible risks of jinxing (yes, that scientifically proven law of physics) I had until now refrained from mentioning that tomorrow I have an appointment to sign the bilateral sales agreement that should at last set the wheels in motion for the sale of my French apartment.
A brand new and very un-French real estate agent – friendly, cheerful, polite and communicative – managed to find me a lovely young French couple who fell in love with the property at first visit, and after various tussles with their bank, were eventually able to make me an offer.
Admittedly it was an extremely low offer.
An entire €50,000 lower than the offer I accepted back in 2011 (which due to the combined efforts of Supercilious Turd French Notary and dear old Nicky Sarkozy never resulted in a sale).
But after three years of struggling every month to find the mortgage, and with the French real estate market a fly ridden carcass of its former self, I was happy to accept any offer at all.
So far, so good.
Until my cheery estate agent asked me to contact Supercilious Turd and request that he leave the deeds to my house for her to collect.
During an initial telephone call, I was asked to formulate my request in an email, which I did.
It remained answer-less.
So I sent another email.
And then another.
At which point my estate agent stepped in.
It took her an entire week to get any response at all from Supercilious Turd’s office, at which point she was informed that the Bill of Sale for my problem room had never been signed.
Meaning that the room was still not mine to sell.
But how could that be?
Way back in July 2011 the previous owner and I had met in front of Supercilious Turd, both signed a document and I had handed over a cheque. Up until that meeting, the ownership of that room had been the only thing standing between me and a sale, and the signing of that document was what permitted Supercilious Turd to laboriously plod his way to preparing the bilateral sales agreement for the sale that never went through.
I am speechless.
Even if I completed misunderstood, even if the document I signed in July 2011 was only a preliminary to the bill of sale, why on earth would a notary make no further attempt to contact a buyer who was already halfway through a sale?
It makes no sense.
Thus my overwhelming relief at having been informed that this second chance at a sale would be overseen by a different notary giving me no reason whatsoever to have contact with Supercilious Turd, has been wiped away on a tsunami of distress that this incompetent excuse for a public servant once again has the power to fuck up my life.
It is almost too ridiculous to believe that I am yet again at his mercy.
This is Status Viatoris, feeling guilty that all the horrors currently going on the world over are not embarrassing her into feel less sorry for herself, in Italy.