SLAM! BANG!
Her: “Honey, is that you?”
Him: “Yeh.”
Her: “Another bad day at the Firm?”
Him: “Bad? Hellish!”
Her: “Is that alcohol on your breath? Have you been drinking at Lucifer’s Lounge with the other associates again?”
Him: “Yeh, it’s Friday, and we just go to shoot the breeze. Everyone’s pretty stressed out these days. This job isn’t cracked up to be what I thought it was.”
Her: “What do you mean? I remember how happy you were to be selected to work for the Firm. You said they did legal work for Big Banks. That sounds pretty impressive to me. And they do throw great parties!”
Him: “Well, no one ever told me that I’d be supervising a bunch of secretaries and paralegals, teaching them the fine art of speed signing. And whenever I go to court these days, I’m getting my head handed to me on a platter. I can see how those judges are looking at me…like some sort of demon. First, it was Rinegard-Guirma; then Burgett; then Allman; then Ibanez; then McCoy; and now Agard. Hell, some of these cases the banks are losing have been brought by pro se’ litigants without any attorney. How’d you like to lose a case to someone representing themselves? I’m starting to feel like a violist on the Titanic. I don’t see how the Big Banks are going to survive these decisions. And if they do, their reputation will be in tatters. Everyone is saying MERS is just circling the drain. Pretty soon there will be nothing left of them besides a bunch of electrons wandering around in cyberspace…come to think of it, that’s all they are right now.”
Her: “Honey, what can I do to help? I know it’s been hard lately. But I still remember how idealistic you were in law school. Ever since you went to work for the Firm, it seems you’ve changed. You’re not the person you used to be. You’re so jaded and cynical about people now. Especially the ones who are struggling to keep their homes. You call them “deadbeats” and a drag on our economy. You seem to hold them personally responsible for their plight, even though no one saw the credit and real estate crash coming. If Alan Greenspan didn’t see it coming, how can you say the average American should have known?”
Him: “Well, it is their fault. They were just living beyond their means. Now they’re paying for it. We’d be living in a million dollar home right now if credit loosened up and we could sell this two-bedroom condo we got right out of law school. The only solution to resolving this crisis is to foreclose people out of their homes faster and faster, so commerce gets back to normal and money becomes available. But those damn foreclosure defense attorneys keep raising arcane legal theories to derail our foreclosures. Who’d have ever thought that in a non-judicial foreclosure state like Oregon, anyone would want to look behind the paperwork we file. And now some judges are starting to buy into the argument that there was some funny business leading up to our foreclosures. I mean, gimme a break – who cares about “secured transactions,” “negotiable instruments” and the Uniform Commercial Code anymore? Those laws were in place when agreements were written on paper. And recording in the courthouse? That is so yesterday. Everything is done in cyberspace. Shred the paperwork, store everything digitally, save warehousing and record keeping costs. That’s the 21st century solution. Why borrowers are complaining that they don’t know who their lender is that’s foreclosing them is beyond me. What difference should it make to them? – they didn’t pay their mortgage! They don’t have any rights.”
Her: “Where did all this anger come from? I suppose you’d vote to take away someone’s Miranda rights because they may have committed a crime. You used to root for the little guy.”
Him: “That was when I was a “little guy.” Now I’m an attorney for Big Banks. Things change. Now it’s my job to be a shill for my lending clients. They need legal representation too! And if I have to prostitute myself for awhile, so be it. That’s what’s called “putting in your time.” So I do what B.L. Zebub tells the Firm he wants us to do. He pays our fees. So what if it’s a little edgy? I mean what’s the big deal about a bunch of robo-signers in our back offices cranking out phony paperwork and signing with bogus titles like “Vice President of Belial Bank.” It gets the job done, the foreclosure gets processed, the borrower gets booted out, and we get the home back. The faster the better. Anyway, it puts food on the table….”
Her: “Honey, I had no idea the Firm employed “robo-signers.” Are those the people I’m reading about everyday, who pretend to be Big Bank “officers” so they can put their names to foreclosure documents instead of the actual bank officers signing their names? Are these the people you’re training? Is the Firm nothing more than one of those “foreclosure mills” that Bob and Nancy were making jokes about at the party last weekend? I wondered why you got so quiet. I remember the look on your face when Bob said foreclosure mill attorneys must have made a pact with the devil, because there was no other way to explain how they could knowingly ignore all of the laws of decency, fair play, and honest lawyering. By the way, what is a “foreclosure mill?” It certainly doesn’t sound very impressive.”
Him: “That’s just a derogatory name for law firms like ours. But you have to admit we have a very specialized business model that is really in demand these days. There are boutique M&A firms, securities firms, tax firms, intellectual property firms, and then there are ‘foreclosure firms.’”
Her: “Yes, but why do they call them “mills?” It sounds like you and the other associates work in a boiler room, cranking out bogus foreclosure documents, day after day, just so you can kick families out of their homes faster and faster. This reminds me of those thugs on the Sopranos who would go out and break knee caps when someone couldn’t pay a hard money loan. Is this what you went to law school for?”
Him: “And your point is? Besides, it puts food on the table.”
Her: “Well, let’s try to put a different name on it, so at the next cocktail party, when someone asks what you do for a living, you can give your job description some caché. How about “Redemption Prevention.” At least it is polysyllabic. “Foreclosure Mill” is so pejorative. It sounds like “puppy mill” or something. I just don’t like the snickers. You didn’t spend seven years in college to work in a ‘mill.’”
Him: “Well, believe me, it’s not easy. I’m putting in 10-hour days, and half of those hours are on internal Firm work. Just this month we had five Workers Compensation complaints, all saying they have carpal tunnel syndrome from so much robo-signing. I suppose a lot of this wouldn’t have been necessary if the Firm hadn’t shredded all of the promissory notes and other original paperwork a few years ago when the Big Banks were doing all those securitizations. But, such is life….”
Her: “What are you talking about “shredding documents!?” Honey, that doesn’t sound good!”
Him: “Shhhh! Don’t yell. B.L Zebub says we can’t call it “shredding.” We’re supposed to refer to it as compliance with the federal ‘Paperwork Reduction Act.’”
Her: “Well, I’m not sure I like that spin. I get the impression that if these documents existed today – instead of disappearing – they would have been recorded or accounted for like everyone thought, and the robo-signers wouldn’t have ever been necessary. It sounds to me as if the Big Banks think they’re not only too big to fail, but too big to follow the law. Don’t you feel the least bit uncomfortable about all this? I mean, what about the state bar ethics? How can you tell people everything is OK when you know you’re using bogus documents to complete a foreclosure? Doesn’t this make you just a little bit nervous that someone is going to get fed up with all the smoke and mirrors, and file an ethics complaint against you with the state bar?”
Him: “That’s the beauty of our business model. We’ve hired $8.00 an hour lackeys to do this. These are the “useful idiots” Lenin was referring to. Every society has them. We put them in one room; put the notaries in another room, and let them do their thing. We stay out of the way and out of the fray. If any of them has any moral reservations about this, they haven’t said so. They just seem happy to have a job. And you should see the look on their faces when we tell them they’ve been promoted to an “Assistant Vice President of Belial Bank!” We give them an official rubber stamp and ink pad, and they just work even harder. It’s kinda funny. But our lawyers have complete deniability. We don’t have our fingerprints on anything. Anyway, the bar ethics say we have to have “actual knowledge” of a fraud to be at risk of a violation. But since there is no paper trail leading back to us, just to the drones, we’ve got clean hands. And when someone accuses us of being enablers of the entire foreclosure crisis, we react with righteous indignation, and accuse them of defaming us, our Big Bank clients, and our staff. In short, we get shrill. We minimize the problem, saying our critics are just blowing things out of proportion about a few minor “technical defects.” But it doesn’t make any real difference, since the homeowners were behind on their payments, anyway. The outcome is predetermined, so what difference does it make how we reach the goal line. Besides, it’s worked so far. What’s ethics got to do with this?”
Her: “I’m not sure I want to be married to someone who thinks all this stuff is OK. You used to follow a moral code. I don’t think Belial Bank is a good client for you or the Firm. And the President, B. L. Zebub, is an evil person. He reminds me of that neighbor guy – Roman something? – in Rosemary’s Baby. He even tried to get me to mix something called “tannis root” in my cocktail at the bank party last weekend. Creepy! Just because your clients don’t have a soul, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have one.”
Him: “Look, everything is a trade-off. We’re making good money; the foreclosure business is booming. Right now this is a good business model, even if it means I have to get my hands a little dirty. I’m not going to grow a conscience as long as the Firm pays my salary. I don’t mind being the Devil’s Advocate; at least it pays well. I’m on track for partnership next year. Pretty soon I’ll have a 32-foot yacht like David Stern down in Florida.”
Her: “Honey, I’ve heard about that guy – isn’t he the attorney that headed up a foreclosure mill? I’ve heard he’s on the ropes right now. I think he’s been named in all kinds of lawsuits and has laid off a bunch of his employees. He may even have been closed down by now. Why would you want to be like him?”
Him: “He made millions! He just pushed the envelope too far. I mean, why would a foreclosure attorney name his yacht “Su Casa es Mi Casa”? He just invited the problems on himself. I have no intention of being so flamboyant.”
Her: “I don’t think he actually named his yacht “Su Casa es Mi Casa.” I understand his wife talked him out of it. Perhaps you should start listening to your wife. It appears to me that working at a “foreclosure mill” requires you to check your soul at the door.” I don’t like this one bit.”
Him: “Well, it puts food on the table.”
Her: “You already mentioned that.”
