Credit where credit is due

I nearly cried today.

I'm not all that prone to tears. Hell, the most important person in my life thinks I've got the emotional depth of a vacuum cleaner most days. But today... well, it was one of those days.

As loyal readers will know, my wife and I are in the midst of a search for a condo. Yup, we're on our way to making our own home in Vancouver (or at least one of the nearby suburbs).

But one of the first steps in getting a place of one's own is getting a credit check for pre-approval of a mortgage. It's pretty difficult to find a home in your price range without actually knowing what you can afford, so everybody does it (except for those lucky jerks who can just plunk down a suitcase full of cash).

And so it was with a rush of blood to the head and an awful coldness in my gut that I learned from my mortgage broker that I had a credit score of exactly zero.

I'm not actually certain what a high score is, but I was pretty sure zero was a bad number.

The problem was, I found out my score by email. The broker was dealing with some other clients by then, so she wasn't able to answer her phone right away (although I called about 10 times in the next five minutes).

So I was left to sweat in my own fear and humiliation as my wife surely struggled mightily to console me and at the same time try to figure out how she'd married such a loser.

Zero credit! I couldn't buy a park bench to sleep on in Vancouver for what I could afford to put down out of my own savings.

Then I thought back to a few months ago, when out of the blue, a collections agency called. Apparently, I'd neglected to pay a hydro bill of $35 when I'd last moved (even though I'd left a forwarding address and the bill never did show up at my new location). I paid the bill and assumed that was the end of it.

Was I about to lose any chance to fulfill the dream of home ownership because a $35 utility bill screwed my credit for life?

The next couple of hours were pretty bad for me. By 9 pm tonight, I'd lost a good portion of my will to live. My wife was being as understanding as ever - which I think made me actually feel worse. I didn't deserve such nice treatment after my gross fiscal irresponsibility.

I looked over at the clock and foresaw a night of stress-induced insomnia in my future.

Finally, about a half hour later, the mortgage broker called me back. Just to be sure she'd sent in the right information to the credit bureau, she asked for the spelling of my name again. "N-A-R-Y?" she tried.

"N-A-R-Y?"

Not even freaking close. Hallelujah.

With hopes rising fast, I spelled my name again for her one more time.

"Let me just check your real credit rating, then. Ah, here's your score! This is really good, actually - best score I've seen in a few weeks. I'll email you the report so you can see for yourself."

One very heartfelt-sounding apology for the honest mistake later and we were square. I hung up the phone.

And that's when I felt the little salty tears start welling up. I even wiped away a drop or two as I stared open-mouthed at the ceiling.

My wife was happy for me when I told her the good news. I was still too shocked to really feel like rejoicing. Heck, it's only an hour and a half later. My nerves are still shot.

But at least I'll be able to sleep tonight.

And tomorrow, we can start looking again for our new home.

tags: Vancouver real estate, credit, credit history, mortgage, property owner, collections agency