The Strange Days of Selling Real Estate

When Jerry and I bought our house five years ago, I got the bright idea that selling real estate might be a good way to make some extra money. After all, the agents didn't seem to have to work too hard; Jerry actually did most of the follow-up telephoning and negotiating. So I took realtor classes at a Holiday Inn at the Lake of the Ozarks for two weeks, from a teacher who I assume had told the same corn-pone jokes for 100 years. He brought his cute little hound dog puppies to class in a box a couple of times, as well as a sample of an air purifying machine he sold on the side.

I passed the exam, paid about $1000 in license fees and joined a discount real estate company in Jefferson City. My broker was not very popular in the real estate world of JC and in fact had a real inferiority complex about it for which she compensated with a superior attitude. But it was the hey-day of the real estate bubble, even in Jefferson City, and our little renegade brokerage was doing pretty well.

I was quite nervous about my first transaction involving a nice but odd couple. He was in IT at an area university and had one of those Amish-type beards where you don't shave anything, just let it grow like a mane all around your head. She was a former teacher who had no control over her two children. Happily we didn't have to look at too many houses before they found one they liked. It had some sewer problems, nothing major, and the closing went smoothly. I got a nice commission check and thought, that wasn't so bad.

But several subsequent transactions didn't go so smoothly. A guy pulled up to the office in a very expensive Mercedes and wanted to see a condo. You'd think someone who drove a car like that would be legit but no. He said he was a former ski instructor but I wasn't clear what he was actually doing now. He was working with a nice mortgage lender but had yet to be approved. Still, he made on offer on a beautiful condo which the sellers accepted. Time went by and still there was no loan approval. The desperate sellers and their increasingly frantic agent called me constantly. Of course within a few weeks the guy's Mercedes was repossessed and someone saw his stuff piled upon on the sidewalk outside his apartment building. We came to learn his deposit check had bounced--but the bank failed to notify anyone. In the meantime the seller lost a qualified buyer. I learned a big lesson: don't work with incoherent idiots.

An older couple was interested in buying a house in the countryside outside Jefferson City. While I was showing the place to the couple, their daughter and toddler grandson, the woman mentioned a news story she heard that day about the tragic death of a baby whose crib was near a window with blinds and the poor thing strangled in the cords. Just then her grandson wandered near the blinds in the house we were touring and the woman freaked out and screamed, Move him away from there! as if he'd suddenly whip up a little noose and hang himself on the spot.

Another buyer was a guy who was the manager of a fast-food restaurant. I never was sure if the woman and baby he lived with were his wife and daughter. They found a nice house and we wrote up the contract. There were a few pieces of drywall in the garage that the owner intended to use to finish the lower level but hadn't gotten around to it yet. I put in the contract that the sale was to include the drywall for finishing the lower level. The buyer, however, took that to mean the seller should provide all the drywall to finish the project, about $300 worth. This creep called me constantly, asking, What about my drywall. The seller finally--reluctantly and angrily--provided all the drywall and the sale closed. I remember feeling sorry for the woman and baby and wishing I could tell her, Run as far and as fast as you can from this putz.

I had a seller whose wife had died and who imagined the Mafia was after him (in Jefferson City?!). He wanted to get rid of his condo as fast as possible so we listed it for a ridiculously low price. A woman brought over her mother who walked in the door, took a look around, and said, "I am home!" and offered an even lower price than the owner was asking. But he took it. I think that was my easiest sale.

I showed a very cool home to a man and his very annoying, name-dropping wife. I thought she must be some bigshot lawyer or corporate executive with her superior attitude. I felt better when I found out she was "in marketing" for a local car dealership. The home owner was an even bigger name-dropper. She had baked cookies (you know, for that enticing Martha Stewart fresh-baked aroma) and showed no signs of leaving so I could show her house. In fact she led the showing herself. I might as well have disappeared as the two women tried to impress each other with their accomplishments and connections. The seller did confess to me her hot tub had saved her marriage (until she moved to New Mexico a few months later).

A very nice military man had to find a house fast. His fiancee, who was buying the house, was moving to town soon. We found a beautiful home in a nice area, sent pictures and she said Great. She got a loan and everything was going smoothly until the inspection. There was evidence of termites. Traditionally the buyer pays for the termite inspection and treatment but this chick refused to spend the $300. The seller's agent said the seller was already "giving the house away" and didn't have an extra cent. Neither party would budge. Finally I called the buyer and told her she would lose the house and her patient fiance did not want to start over again over $300. She reconsidered and we closed. Six months later I got a call from my broker (I had left by then) that I still owed $300 for the termite treatment; the buyer said I had told her I would pay for it. I said, No I never told her that and anyway the deal closed so leave me alone. Then a notice to pick up a certified letter, sent by my broker, showed up. I told a friend about it and he said, Don't pick it up. Hmmm, I had never thought of that--I thought you were obligated to get those. Another little card came about a second certified letter which I also ignored. I haven't heard another word about it.

My favorite buyers were a lovely Vietnamese girl, her cute hip hop African American boyfriend and their gorgeous baby girl. After a couple of heartbreaks over homes that needed too much work, they finally found a cozy place with a one-acre yard. They were so happy and excited. I always wondered what the middle-aged white neighbors thought.

My farewell to real estate was finding a house for a volatile alcoholic who every Friday would drive four hours to a cabin in southern Missouri in order to drink all weekend, then come back Sunday night. He made a decent offer on a nice older house that was part of an estate but the kids rejected it, holding out for more money. The buyer found another house that needed a lot of work. He moved out of his apartment (not very smart) and fortunately the home owners let him move in and pay rent. He paid for an inspection that revealed problems that would cost more to repair than the sellers wanted to pay. So he had to move out. He told me he lived in his car which didn't surprise me. A couple of months later I got a call from the agent of the sellers of estate house. Was my buyer still interested in their mother's house? It had a new price--exactly what my buyer had originally offered. So we wrote another contract just like the first one, waited a few more weeks for the out-of-town lender to bless the sale and finally closed.

My real estate career lasted about two years. I made a few bucks but looking back I don't think I was very good at it. I wasn't aggressive (hungry/desperate) enough. I was reluctant to insult a home-seller who thought her hideously decorated house looked fabulous. I was stunned by the viciousness of the barracuda-like older female agents who had been selling real estate for decades. I hated wasting beautiful weekend afternoons showing ugly houses to losers. So I was glad when I got an offer to write a beauty catalog. I picked up my final commission check, told my broker adios, packed up my office in about 15 minutes and kissed real estate goodbye.

P.S. One valuable thing I learned from the experience was that you don't really need a real estate agent when you are buying or selling a house. The main service an agent offers is showing your property if you're selling. If you're buying, you can find your own properties online. The paperwork isn't that complicated; the lender can help you with it. So save a few bucks and do it yourself.