Rampant sexism. Or, the difference between 15 and 30.

We are house hunting.

And let me just interject up here that for the most part, I'm a bright individual. I think fast. I sometimes see things other people don't. I'm just not so much on the math.

OK?

So. Interest rates are low. And we need space. And so we are looking.

We both have good credit, and while what we want to do is a tremendous stretch, it's not totally batshit, considering that we both have good, stable jobs, money from Nick's place once it's sold, etc.

In other words, we are asking for a lot but not laughable insanity.

So Nick called his financial institution and while he was waiting to hear back, I called mine. We both said we were interested in 30-year fixed loans.

Mine said they could offer a 5-year loan with an ARM or a 15-year fixed. So I figured they should go ahead and quote us on the 15-year fixed.

I mean, 15 is better than nothing, right? It's half as much, but we could sort that out later. Right? Because did I mention numbers? They are never logical for me? Or rather, I am never logical with them.

The more mathematically-inclined among us can see where this is headed.

So I, I spent hours on the phone. Here's our income. Here's our savings. Here's what we are getting out of my husband's place. Etc etc.

And the guy would go through it all, and then ask, do we have any other assets. What about this? What about that. Could we possibly demonstrate any more cash?

At a certain point I got exasperated and said, "Look. My husband might have a secret account I don't know about, but if he does, I don't know about it. As far as I know, this is what we've got."

I was thinking, you can or you can't, but stop acting like I'm being totally crazy. Stop acting like I'm doing something wrong.

During our eternal string of conversations, Nick emailed to say he had just heard back positively on the preapproval. But I should go ahead and see, as I was already near the end of the process.

I kept emailing him - things like: "Holy crap!" and "You didn't have this much trouble. Is it because I'm a woman?" and "Am I presenting it wrong? And why does he sound so suspicious?"

And Nick kept saying, "I don't know."

At the end of a couple phone calls and being put on hold a number of times, and the guy sounding veryvery dubious, he finally said that it just might miiiiiight work. Down to the penny.

And I could call back in 48 hours to see.

Immediately after getting off the phone with him, I called Nick. I really was verging on offended.

This must be sexism. It's all because I'm a woman! Nobody sounded sceptical of Nick.

"I mean, really," I said. "How fucking big a deal is some stupid 15-year fixed mortgage? Maybe he'd rather speak to you, the man? You had no problem!"

"Sweetie. 15-year fixed."

"Yes. They couldn't do 30."

"Did you do the math?"

Hilarious. Do I ever?

"Lis. You do realize that 15 years is half the amount of time of 30?"

"Yes Nick." (It's not like I'm stupid.) "So we eventually have to refinance. But we have 15 years to do so."

"NO. We'd have 15 years of enormous mortgage payments. Because they make you pay the whole thing off in 15 years."

Ahhhhh. No wonder that guy sounded so sceptical.