Will Zugheri got in Trouble

We had a meeting today, a meeting in which V-Shaped Mortgage Banker Will got in trouble…

Before we all headed to the conference room, Will leaned over to me like he was about to let me in on a secret. My ears perked up because I figured if Will had any secrets, they’re really good ones, like maybe he’s with the mob (he’s not).

Instead, Will quietly said, “If the occasion arises, if you feel the need to stand up for me in the meeting, I give you permission.”

“Like if I say you have a good heart and that the bosses should think about that?” I suggested.

“That would be great,” he said. He nodded. “Yeah, talk about my heart.”

Once in the conference room, things got tense. It started with James studying a sheet of paper that somehow represents Will (y’all know good and well I don’t understand this business so don’t even ask me what the paper was about), and Will staring at the paper, too, but looking like a scared little boy:

(If the pictures show up small, refresh your page because I spent like an hour on these.)

Will in Trouble 1

Then James was like, “Will, you’re in big trouble, man.”

Will in Trouble 2


Will in Trouble 4

Here’s what Will said back, and y’all I’m not making this up – this is verbatim from my notes:

“I’m getting more and more aware of, uh…But I did…uh…”

Then he started talking about himself in third-person plural for some reason. I’ve heard the third-person thing is a self-defense deal but the plural part is new to me.

“We’re taking steps to…”

Will in Trouble 5

After the meeting, James called everybody out to watch V-Shaped Mortgage Banker Will do 100 push-ups (we don’t play here).

The funniest part of this picture is that nobody’s even watching except for Front Desk Wonder Lady Christi and she was only watching because she got bored at the front desk . It’s like, totally normal that they’re doing push-ups in the middle of the mortgage office (and for the record, James did the push-ups alongside Will):

Will is in Trouble 5

Also for the record, after forty push-ups, James swapped from doing man-push-ups to push-ups like my mom does them (which are fine for my mom, but come on y’all).

And lastly for the record, people, V-Shaped Mortgage Banker Will does have a good heart (spiritually and physically thanks to the push-ups).

Birds, Dog, a Horse, and My Co-workers

I may have caused a bit of a mini-panic to settle itself on my Houston readers concerning the dead birds falling from the trees outside our office. Y’all are so touchy, I swear. Listen, at this point, nobody in the office is running a fever, and our front desk receptionist, Christi, even exercised for the first time in her life yesterday (I made her go on a walk with me and you would have thought it was the SEALs training),  thus proving that all our lung capacities are still optimally running.

Here’s what’s happened since Thursday. The Humane Society finally showed up and took “samples” (dead birds) with them to run some tests. After they left, birds kept on dropping, and Juan, our awesome building maintenance man, had to run out and scoop them up as they fell. But then Juan had to go run an errand, and for two hours the birds piled up. Otis watched nervously from his post inside the building and directed visitors around the “samples.”

Meanwhile, until Otis hears back from the Humane Society, he’s busy trying to find out what’s up by frantically searching the Internet, which worries me because I don’t want Homeland Security tracking his searches and thinking he’s a lunatic. Hey Homeland – Otis is a really great guy! I swear!

Enough of the bird debacle. This week I’m working on writing bios for the team for some website we’re going to have (why this website isn’t enough for us, I do not know). I’ve been pulling the mortgage bankers into a conference room and asking them all their hopes and dreams. Here are the highlights:

  • When I asked Richard about his dog, he abruptly got up to go fetch his phone to show me pictures. On his way back to the conference room from his desk (like, four feet away) he was so engrossed in the dog pictures that he passed the conference room and walked into some random office. I was like, “Richard! Hey Richard I’m in here!” Dude loves his dog. He also loves everything else about life and I’m having a hard time coming up with a snarky nickname for him. More on that later.
  • When I sent Straight Shooter Shane the rough draft of his bio, which included the phrase “frat house” because he used to be in a creepy fraternity, he actually wrote back: It’s never a “frat house” always a fraternity lodge or house…. Otherwise, I love it! That’s so weird. It’s just so weird. What is a “lodge” anyway? Lodge. It sounds like throat lozenge. I asked him if he still wears his letterman’s jacket, and he frowned and gave me some lip about not having a class ring. And he still won’t show me the secret frat house (d’ya hear that!?) handshake. Also, I have changed his name to Straight Shooter Shane because the guy totally tells clients what’s up. Not a coddler, that Shane.
  • V-Shaped Mortgage Banker Will, forgetting it was an interview for a professional bio, ended up telling me some horrible story about a horse getting killed (he didn’t kill it). Y’all, come on. I’m trying to bring you business here. Don’t go telling me about the night an axe murderer broke into your house.
  • In Just So John‘s interview, he told me about a loan he did for a transgendered person, and Just So John had to file all this paperwork to prove that his client was one person and not two people since the guy/girl’s W-2s from one year said Bill and the next year said Veronica. And you thought you had a tricky loan?

Oh, and by the way, apparently nobody listened to me last week when I said to get a loan somewhere else, because our business is exploding this week. Two borrowers in the past hour have called Online Dater Mortgage Banker Jason asking for loans, and I know this because he’s all, “BOOM!” and singing and giving people high fives. (Dude loves mortgages.) Then he made a big sandwich to celebrate.

That must've been one big loan...

That must’ve been one big loan…

Alright folks, I promise I’ll let you know as soon as we hear from the Humane Society. While you all be on the lookout for falling parakeets, I’m off to edit these bios and try to make this group of people with whom I work appear fairly normal. Wish me luck.

The Office Stink(s)

I’m kind of wishing I’d gotten my flu shot now. I walk in our building today and Otis, our beloved front door man, stops me. “I think I’ve got something for your blog. The birds.” Then he points outside and I’m thinking, Sorry Otis. You’ve got to give me something better than bird watching, pal. I smiled politely and nodded, about to walk away, and then Otis tells me more. “They’re falling from the trees and dying.”

“What!?” I asked, shifting my laptop bag from one shoulder to the other.

“You want to see them?” Otis offered.

“No! What are you talking about, Otis? Are the birds flying into the building? Because you know I’ve seen stuff like that happen.”

Thankfully, Otis is a patient man. “They’re just dropping from the trees. I called the Humane Society, but they just said to leave a message. Health Department’s here now though,” he said, pointing out the back door of the building toward a truck.

Then he pointed out front, indicating a woman in a business skirt and heels. “See those wings at that lady’s shoes?”

Oh my gosh. I might throw up.

Y’all, there are dead birds falling from the tree outside our building. I thanked Otis for the scoop and told him we’d check back in with him later to find out if we’re all about to catch bird flu or whatnot. (If this picture shows up small and crooked, refresh your page, because I worked for like an hour on this. My janky blog site has been making my pictures small for some reason, but it’s important you fully understand the bird situation.)

Dead Birds

Then I come in to find out one of our processors (Colorado-Bound Nikki (she’s constantly threatening to move back to her home state of Colorado)) has been pilfering through the mortgage bankers’ trash cans to retrieve any recyclables. I’m not making this up. She got so tired of asking everyone to place empty cans in her cube (she takes them home to recycle) that she gave up and began garbage diving. Next thing you know she’s going to tie herself to the dead bird tree outside in some sort of green protest.

Y’all, I know the grand purpose of this blog is to make you all fall in love with us and eventually get mortgages, but today is just not a good day. Don’t call. Don’t fill out a loan app. Don’t email. I don’t care how low interest rates are. Just don’t do it. Stay home. Enjoy your apartment. Lay out by the pool. Call the crappy Big Box Bank if you want a loan. Things are too bananas here for guests.

Alright readers, you all go get a shoddy loan from somewhere else, and I’m off to rent a Hazmat suit (and then give it to Nikki to recycle when I’m done).

Stupid Reasons They Censor Me

Sometimes my Bosses censor me. Most of the time it’s because they think I’m going to get them fired or make someone very angry at us or land them in the big house. It’s why I try to get people to subscribe to my blog (on the right). That way my freshly pressed posts land right in your inboxes and you won’t have to read the watered down crap they make me change it to after they’ve read my funny stuff and hyperventilated.

It happened Tuesday. My Boss Chad got totally bent out of shape, all because I used the word “bribe” in a mortgage blog. Now, please raise your hand if you think that we actually bribe people to get loans with us. Anybody? I’m not seeing any hands. How about you in the back? Think we bribe people? Think if we did bribe people we’d write about it on the blog? Hmm? Now, I’m going to hold out my hand and I need you to give me a big fat break. Y’all want to know what Chad made me edit Tuesday? A stupid picture of cake balls with the phrase, “Heck yes we bribe people” in the caption. Stop it right there. Let me ask you lovely readers a few more questions. If you were going to bribe someone to get loans with you, with what would you bribe them. Jewels? Cash? Gold? Hawaiian vacations? All good answers. Funny I didn’t hear anyone answer cake balls. Maybe that’s because IT’S SO STINKING OBVIOUS WE’RE NOT BRIBING PEOPLE. Ahem, excuse me. Actually, tell you what, if my bosses land in the slammer due to being accused of bribing people with chocolate to get loans with them, I will personally bail them out of jail and pay their lawyer fees. Anyway, I had to change it to something less funny and I’ll bet you dollars to donuts (I don’t know what that means – it’s something my other Boss James always says) my readership suffers because of it.

It happened a few months ago, too. I wrote such a funny post that ended with telling a nasty person who’d called the office (and screamed obscenities at one of our mortgage bankers) to excuse themself from an event we were hosting. It is possible that I used the letters F and U in my chiding, but only because we were playing bingo that night and it totally fit in with the blog and was funny as toot to see me tie in bingo with F and U. Chad just about had a heart attack that day. About five minutes after I’d posted it (see edited version here), James heard frantic footsteps racing toward his office. Chad looked like a crazy power walker, the type that swing their butts really fast as they pace.

Chad the Power Walker

Chad burst in all, “We can’t say F-U on the blog! We can’t!” His forehead was sweating and he forced James to call me in on the spot and shout, “Take it down!”

Then there was the time I wrote about a training gone wrong, how this lady had given all of us some crazy advice that we weren’t going to take and how we ended the training right there on the spot. James said, “Absolutely not” and dashed any dreams I had of making this blog funny. I’m telling you people, I’m a caged artist over here. Aren’t there laws against this? Any lawyers reading out there? Help a Just the Assistant out!

Now, while you all send me my legal rights, I’m off to rip this duct tape off my big mouth.

The Home Shopping Network

Back when I was busy pouring coffee and breaking the copy machine, one of my jobs was to buy pencil cups. See, we’ve always had this link on our intranet (that I don’t have access to anymore since my only job is to make fun of everybody and they took away my passwords) that shows all these little gifts we can buy new-hires or clients or referral partners. A way of saying, “We’d like to buy your business.” “Thanks.” Oh kidding. Even if we’d wanted to buy someone’s business we couldn’t have because the best thing on there was the pencil cup. Did I mention Envoy is a paperless company?

Anyway, because I no longer have access to the employee marketing site (they’re so touchy, I swear), I didn’t know we’d teamed up with a new marketing group. Thankfully, our new front desk receptionist, Christi, has a wicked lovely sense of humor and forwarded me her link to the new Envoy store. Thought you’d kept me away, didn’t you? Woo ha ha ha!

This is what I’m talking about! Who the heck are these people? And did Mr. Envoy forget to tell them we’re a mortgage bank?

I present to you my favorites:

The Envoy Mortgage Orange Safety Cone, because you might need to stop traffic in order for your kids to play in the street at leisure without those pesky Houston SUVs getting in the way.

Envoy Traffic Cone

Where’s my scanner? Can I register at this store like I did before I got married? Below, the Envoy Mortgage mini-bar. And see that red thing on top? That’s the pencil cup I used to buy folks!

Envoy FurnitureNothing sends a home closing to a screeching halt faster than a woman with a hangnail (or unruly eyebrows). Check yourself, ladies.

Envoy ManicureLots of couples like to start a family once they move into their new home. Why wait nine months for little Junior to arrive? We’ve got Envoy babies!

Envoy BabyLastly, buying a home can be stressful (not with us, but with other lenders). In the event that you’ve had a poor experience with another lender prior to crawling back to us like you should have done in the first place, we have squishy prostates for you to squeeze while you curse the Big Box Bank that ruined your life.

Envoy Prostate

If you would like your very own Envoy Mortgage offspring, orange safety cone, or squeezy colon, contact me today. If you’d like a lame pencil cup, call some other mortgage company.

You do NOT have the Flu. Period. Well, maybe you have it…

James has had the flu this week. He stumbled in yesterday wearing shorts and his favorite fleece vest claiming he hadn’t had a fever in 24 hours. I can’t say we gave him the warmest welcome.

James Flu

James Clorox

Rachelle wouldn’t even knock on his office door. She kind of swatted it with her scarf and then slid some documents under the door yelling, “James, I’m not coming in there – sign these!”

He’s not the only one. Online Dater Jason had the flu last month, and Funny Guy Terry and his whole family have it today.

While we’re speaking of the flu, it’s time we settle this. Some of you out there think that the flu means you’re sick. Got a fever and runny nose? Ohp! Must be the flu! Feeling puny and vomiting? Oooh that dreadful flu.


Stop right there. You do not have the flu. I used to work with a girl at the elementary school where I tutored naughty children. She took a day off school and when she returned claimed she had the flu. “Really?” I prompted (knowing good and well she had no flu). “So you went to the doctor?” I asked.

“No,” she replied, “I didn’t go to the doctor because I knew what they were going to say – ‘It’s the flu,’ so I didn’t go.”

Mm hmm. Readers, this is an example of someone who did not have the flu. This is an example of someone who was sick, who maybe had a sinus infection or bad cold.

I had a sinus infection of my own a couple years back. The first day I was able to venture out of the house and feebly walk my dog I bumped into an obnoxious neighbor (no, not you Erv). He asked how I’d been and I told him I’d been a little sick. “Oh you had the flu?” he asked.

What is it with people?! The flu means one of two things. Either you are so incredibly sick, so utterly exhausted and feverish and chilled and nearly dead that you cannot even pick up the phone to call and make the doctor appointment, OR a good pal has driven your sick self to the hospital and a doctor with a white coat and medical degree has told you that you in fact have the flu.

Online Dater Mortgage Banker Jason was kind enough to demonstrate for me how the doctor confirmed he had the flu last month. Please imagine the following pen is a long sterile Q-tip:

Flu Test 1

Now, please imagine a doctor is inserting the “Q-tip” into Jason’s nostrils:

Flu Test 2

Finally, the doctor inserted the Q-tip so far into Jason’s nose that he grazed Jason’s frontal lobe:

Flu Test 3

Hence confirming, Jason had the flu.

There you have it, readers! Your handy flu packet that is good for this entire flu season. Feel free to print this out, tri-fold into a nice pamphlet, and place it in any plastic slots you find in pharmacy waiting rooms.

While I go Clorox down the break room, you get your flu shot and call one of our awesome flu-free (except for Terry) mortgage bankers to secure the best home loan in the state of Texas.