I was two hours from closing. Two hours. The title company had everything ready, the buyers were packing their car to drive over, and my seller was literally at the airport about to board a flight to his new city. Then the buyer's lender calls me. Turns out the buyer decided that morning—that very morning—to finance a brand new truck. A seventy-thousand-dollar truck. His debt-to-income ratio was now completely destroyed and the loan was dead on arrival. I had to call my seller at the gate and tell him the deal was gone. He missed his flight. The buyers acted shocked, like nobody had ever told them not to make major purchases before closing. I had told them. Three times. In writing. I found the emails. They just thought it "probably wouldn't matter" because they "make good money." I didn't eat for two days. I still see that truck model driving around town sometimes and my eye twitches. Six months of work, gone because someone couldn't wait fourteen more days to buy a vehicle they didn't even need.