Real Estate Agents = Unemployable

My house.  I've made some improvements.

My house. I’ve made some improvements.

It’s no secret that we’re thinking about moving. It’s just that, with a house that has the same shape, size, and structural stability of a shoebox, it’s difficult to sell in a market where designer mcmansions are going for $150,000. It’s one of the reasons I’ve done so much work to the place. But it seems like every time I try to actually get down to brass tacks and find a new place, a road black appears in the form of a real estate agent (AKA, the person’s whose only job is to help me).

There are two types of people that are drawn to entrepreneurship: 1) The guy who works way too hard and has way too many good ideas to start at the bottom of anywhere; (you can’t have a guy like Steve Jobs start in the mail room) 2) The guy who doesn’t like being told what to do or when to get up or when to go to work (you can’t have a guy like my brother starting off in the mail room room because, man, he only needs $75 more dollars and that moped is paid off). Both start their own businesses and only one of them survives. But there’s a middle ground between “I have my own idea and I can sell it to anyone!” and “Like I’m going to work for some hypocrite who tells me not to come to work high anymore, but you know he comes in hungover like twice a week!” and that middle ground is real estate.

I personally know two real estate agents (not in this area) and they are the hardest-working people I know. The other ones I’ve met are a different story.

When I first bought this house I called the number on the sign. No one answered. I then called random real estate agents in the area. Only one picked up. When she came out to the house I recognized her as the Not-the-Fat-Lady at the Shell Station. At this point I thought she could be either type of agent: maybe she’s down on her luck and is working at Shell and the realtor’s office in order to climb back on top or maybe she’s lazy and unemployable since she’s 45 and the best career opportunity she can afford is working at Shell and the realtor’s office. It turned out to be the latter. I wanted to see the house once more and swung by the real estate office to get her so she could let me in the house. Instead – because she was very busy with Bejeweled (I like how older folks think that by pausing something on a computer a casual onlooker will have no idea what you’re doing) – she just gave me the combination so I could go in whenever I wanted.

Whatever happened to the guy on the sign? He never contacted me. He signed all the right forms and got everything straight with the banks, but we never communicated.

Real estate agent or the bad guy from Ghostbusters 2?

Real estate agent or the bad guy from Ghostbusters 2?

Even before that, when we were shopping for houses, I eventually stopped calling the agents because it was such a hassle for them to meet me. I literally broke into houses I was interested in buying (you’d be amazed at how many of these places have unlocked windows or open garage doors or portals to Narnia).

Four years ago I wanted to know how much I could get for my shitbox. I called a local guy – he ran the company with his wife – and he came out to measure and take pictures and whatnot. His response: “I don’t know.”

Two years ago I got serious about it and called around. After a half-dozen no-answers and no-call-backs, I got someone. She came out and took pictures and that was it. I never heard from her again.

Right now I’m trying to get someone to show me some land north of here. It’s very close to my ideal area: enough acreage where I could feel alone, waking distance to a park, biking distance to a lake, and within the boundaries of three pretty good schools. I called the number on the sign; no answer. I called the nearest agent; no answer.

Are these people super-busy? Do they have so many clients and are selling so many houses that they simply don’t have the time to answer the phone? Or – and this is much more likely – are they simply lazy people who don’t want to answer the phone because then they might have to work? Is it like a scene from The West Wing where various assistants are walking behind them talking about all the meetings, decisions, and deals that are taking place? Is it like Alec Baldwin from Glengarry Glen Ross?

Or is it a scene from “Bart to the Future”?

http://sliverltd.com/nothing/barttothefuture.m4a

Either way, I think I’m getting screwed.

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One Response

  1. […] This is a sequel to a prior post. […]

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