The Paths Unknown

Smack-Dab in the Middle

For a while, I have been toying with where I should go with my real estate vocation. I am not unhappy where I am, but it has become obvious that El Jefe's place, which was once good fit, is no longer. And, after doing a slight analysis, I realized my partner, Ronnie and I have done half the sales for the office for the past two years--and mind you I haven't been active this year until August.

Ronnie and I have great commission splits, so El Jefe isn't making that much money off of us.  Essentially, unless El Jefe has some sort of money laundering business, it is the property management portion of what he does that is keeping the lights on. I happen to know how much property management pays. If you are curious, hit me up and I will give you eight year's of reading on property management. Consider yourself warned. But if you want the condensed version: My bank account is empty, I have gray hair and a bitter taste in my mouth for deadbeat renters.

Yesterday when I was thinking IF I should leave, I said a prayer, and then the phone rang and it was some broker who works with the same mortgage and title people I work with. He heard about me and wanted to know if I might have an interest in joining his office. I laughed hysterically after he introduced himself and then explained I had just said, "amen," and the phone rang. We talked for quite a while, and the gist is I am meeting with him on Thursday afternoon. But I am not convinced he is the best fit for me.

Then I checked my e-mail and there was someone offering me a scholarship for some training I wanted that I couldn't afford. And finally, last night I talked with El Jefe for a bit about unrelated items and he made three or four very rude and uncalled for comments about my kids. We weren't talking about my kids, but he threw a few shots over the barrel anyway for no reason I could fathom. Nor did he back down when I told him he was out of line.

And, my decision to leave was made.

This morning I called Ronnie and told her I am shopping around and invited her to come with me on Thursday. "It's about time," she said. "I have been waiting for you. I've been ready for months." You see, Ronnie and I go together. We have worked together for almost fifteen years. If she goes, I go.

Then she threw this at me, "Why don't you just open up your own brokerage?" Why indeed? I have a broker's license, but I have been burned out beyond belief on being a business owner. Been there, done that, got the bankruptcy to prove it.

But a real estate brokerage with two (possibly three--I need to talk with Jane at some later time) agents is a whole lot different than managing a gazillion rental homes. I would be managing one other seasoned agent who knows as much as I do if not more. The department of real estate doesn't look lightly on business owners who are 14 weeks out of bankruptcy and I would probably have a provisional license until I proved to them I wasn't a crook. Plus, I would not have a trust account, so NO PROPERTY MANAGEMENT.

I would tell you I need to think about this--because I do. But also, I should tell you sitting smack-dab  in the middle of my desk right now is the Arizona Department of Real Estate's application and checklist to open a brokerage. I also have a call into my insurance agent to find out if they carry errors and omissions insurance and surety bonds (that whole bankruptcy thing again). The department makes the process very slow. There are lots of baby steps. I don't just get to throw up a sign in my yard and say, "open for business." There are start-up costs, which I don't have for things like logos, web sites, fees to everyone, licensing, etc. But hey! I made the first decision. I am leaving and Ronnie is coming with me.