The buyer’s attorney rushed into the closing room 10 minutes late. She gave herself away as a rookie by tossing both her briefcase and her large cup of some coffee-cino onto the table, precariously close to the stack of mortgage documents.
The title closer and I both gasped, and the bank attorney lunged across the table to pull the double-wide pile of paperwork away from the tumbling cup o’ joe. But it was too late! The mortgage, note, and quite a few other documents were doused in the brownish java.
We all waited for 20 minutes while the lender’s counsel’s printer chugged out a new stack of papers. I was not alone at the table in giving Ms. I-Didn’t-Know-I-Must-Keep-Liquids-Away-F