End Game

There is a story I never told on here that I think once in a while because it molded me to who I am today. And I still have no clue who I am today.

Thirty years ago while in college, I was offered a job doing mortgages. I did not really understand what I was applying for, but my friend did it and said it was good money and fun.

He is a VP at Bank of America now.

I walked into my interview underdressed as always because I seem to do that. A guy with what looked to be a sharp suit and a Rolex sat down to interview me. He asked me some questions that I really did not know and he kept said that is fine. And then he asked me…

“So, what is your end game?”

I did not understand the question so he explained that he meant what do I want from this job, what do I want from the future. I am 20 years old. I am a shitty student in college. I worked for a pinstriper who screamed at me all day. So I could have answered a million ways but I said…

“I want to make a lot of money.”

He smiled and said that is what he wanted to hear and I was hired. Honestly, I could have answered my end game was to shit in my pants and I would have been hired. He really did not care.

So I learned about mortgages. I do not remember a ton, I just remember we made money on something called origination fees and at the time there was no limit. We would pull credit, get homes appraised, and refinance the homes to give people money or less interest for a longer time. We did not focus on new purchases.

I learned quick that you never wanted people with good credit. You do not make money off of them. It is the people with bad credit. Those who have very little outs. You want that reverse mortgage. And guess what? We are their source. We help them buy a car. We help them pay off a loan. But we also make a lot of money and charge a lot of interest in doing it.

So I went to a woman’s house and she was in tears. She needed to refinance her house because her son was in jail and he was held on a $100,000 bond, so she needed $10,000 quick. She never told me the crime but I am now understand enough to realize you did something serious on that kind of bond. She kept telling me he was a sweet kid, but his dad was a bastard and blah blah blah.

I wrote up a deal. Her credit was 519. I was the option. And in the first deal, I got her the $10,000 she needed, put her mortgage at 11%, and I would make $21,000.

I was 20. $21,000 is life altering money for a kid in the 90’s. But instead, I did not. I got her the $10,000, got her interest to stay the same and I made $500 so she kept that equity in her house.

We signed the papers and when I got back to the office I was taken to the owner’s office where I was screamed at. He told me that I do not know how to do my job, which he was right. He gave me the option to quit or get fired, and I quit. And that was my mortgage career.

I think about this situation often because on one end, I was a huge idiot. I literally could have made life altering money for a 20 year old and also help someone. On the other, I felt like at the time I was helping someone and did not want to take advantage of their situation. But I did not do my job. And I lost it and rightfully so.

You know, every time I chased money in life, it backfired on me. I was a manager at Longhorn and because I got passed up for a promotion, I left for more money and a promise. The place I went to went bankrupt within a month. Longhorn, which was RARE at the time, sold to DARDEN and I would have made a lot of money in shares and I would have gotten my promotion.

I left restaurants to go into a wholesale car business where i was assured I would never have to work after 40. It was the worst move of my life. Owning a company is never fun, and working with a drug addict partner who threatened my life daily made it really not fun. Everyone I worked with in restaurants now is a VP or regional for Top Golf.

I have struggled over the last few years. I sold art where I was questioned daily about my prices. How can I charge 200-2000 for “A Stick Figure”. I do not need to respond to that. I can just say all artists are questioned. I thought some people I met during the process were true friends but instead I was a charity case.

I wanted to be a writer but instead, I got lazy and focused on Twitter. There was a time when I would wake up every morning and pray I was not suspended. Now, I could not care less. I should have invested in myself time and time again and listened to people, yet I did the whole gut. My gut is an asshole.

I also know what it is like to struggle and be taken advantage of. H&R Block and Amscot do well for a reason. Buy Here/Pay Here lots make a killing. When you have no options, you take what you can. Most rich people have taken advantage of poor or struggling people to get where they are. They will buy a struggling company on pennies on the dollar and make a phone call to fix. They will charge interest for money you need and you will never recover. I am very bold when I say fuck all MAGA, but at the end of the day, it does hit me when wven the worst stupid people are taken advantage of. I sell sports cards now, and most people who are very successful are that way by hurting others. Offering someone with no money 500 bucks for a Hank Aaron rookie just to sell for six figures.

My life now is not bad but it is not great. I have crippling anxiety although my depression is curbed. I do not have the desire to share everything here anymore when I did. But this is a start. And a good start.

I have a hard time sleeping at night. I post sports cards in a tough market and use my personality to sell them more than the product. It is what I have. When I sold art, I sell me. My Substack is me.

So I do not know. I am surviving. I am not happy but I am not sad. I rarely talk politics, but will always throw a joke in about MAGA.

Anyway, the mortgage question has been on my mind lately if I did the right thing. I am sure her son went back to jail. She had equity to get him out. I left $21,000 for her.

My son is playing in his first regular season baseball game and my daughter is trying out to be the first chair viola for her school’s orchestra. They both have straight A’s and are truly respectful.

So my end game never has been money. I want enough to survive. My end game is not to work late at night or rip people off or argue.

My end game is to be there so I will never have to take money out to get my kids out of jail.

And I will personally stuggle daily to make sure I keep my end game.

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