Well, it has happened; Gizmo has asked me to go to the bank for him and I don't mean the river bank. He says he has to get a loan for either a pre-owned home or an upgrade on the air compressor shed. I told him he should go, not me, but he says I am a better talker. He has been floating the idea of leveling the shed and expanding his home. Evidently this has been on his plans for a long time as an alternative to a pre-owned home. This is the first I have heard about it! the plans include a deluxe condo of holes and he has interested clients, including a skunk and several mouse families. It sounds like a alot of competition for corn to me. I guess the very least I can do is go to the bank for him . . . be back in a moment.
What an adventure THAT was! First the loan officer wanted to know why I was there instead of Gizmo--that was a little difficult to explain. He wanted to know how much money was involved--what is it for?! Next it was collateral! Does Gizmo have any? Oh dear. Does he have an dependents, I have never seen any but you know Gizmo goes away for extended period of time. Next he asked some very personal questions of ME! Like what was my mother's maiden name?---a--a--a--I never knew her, I just came out of an egg!!! The loan officer gave me a very hard stare and then typed something into his computer. My throat got dry and tight. My social security number--a--a--a--does he mean the rest of the flock?! Oh dear. He excused himself for a moment, I wanted to fly away. He returned with a stack of papers and an ink pad for me to use to sign. My throat got tighter. Then he said it--I WOULD HAVE TO CO-SIGN with Gizmo. I couldn't catch my breath, what was I doing!!! The officer said Gizmo was a bit of a financial risk. He pointed out that I would be libel for his debts. I thanked him and flew out but not before he offered me a credit card. It was free so I took it.
I told Gizmo all about it but he just kept chewing on some green leaves and I think he was smiling. Gizmo asked me if I gave the bank my mother's maiden name--I said, no; did I know my social security number? No. Did you tell them your permanent address? No. " Then what do you have to worry about?! Go get the money!", Gizmo said with a full mouthful. I think next time HE can go to the bank by himself!!!
Until next time . . .
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