Random Adventures

Believe it or not, it has been kinda quiet the last couple of days. Of course, I have blocked one specific phone number. So, that helps.

Junior called me this morning. He wanted to warn me his father was hopping mad. Too late. I pretty much got that message loud and clear because his dad has been blowing up my voice mail for the past few days. You see, Diamond Jim thinks I "took" all of his money. Junior explained that isn't the case. Hopefully Diamond Jim understands long-term. I think the newness of what Diamond Jim is dealing with is still affecting him. He knows he sold his house. But for whatever reason he isn't understanding he had to pay back his mortgage.

In other Diamond Jim news, I decided to put off contacting him until after I get back from Bonus Mom's memorial. My heart aches for the man and I understand he is confused and lonely. But I just can't right now. Or I won't. Pick one.

_____________________________ 

I need to call the other agent on our Margarita transaction. Why? Because I found out AN HOUR AGO that my client, once again, fired his loan officer. This would have been useful to know days ago. By the way, I found this out from a new loan officer who wanted the contract. The buyer side (my side) owes this disclosure to the seller side. I am not looking forward to telling him. I am hoping to be afforded the same Grace I gave the selling agent last week. But I am not owed it.

_____________________________ 

A resemblance to Dee and her Merry Band of Felons (but think more visible tattoos and ankle bracelet monitor accessories)

Dee and her Merry Band of Felons have a home inspection later today. When I talked with my home inspector to schedule, he asked if anyone other than him is making money on these sales. Nope. And that's only because he keeps talking my clients out of buying houses. Actually, he isn't "talking them out of buying." That isn't fair. He is telling them the truth: these are super-crap homes in super-scary neighborhoods.

The Easiest Sale I Ever Had With Diamond Jim

In the midst of all the other craziness last week, Diamond Jim's home closed with its own fair share of nuttiness. In fact, there was as much drama in Diamond Jim's last week of the sale as there was in the first week it went into escrow. It was the weeks in between that were peaceful.

First, I went over to Diamond Jim's home last Tuesday. I was physically in the property. Marty, Buckaroo, Polly and Jane were in the property. We all saw the condition of this house. By the time Calvin the Awesome arrived on the scene Wednesday night for his client's final walk-through, there was a different story to tell. Of course, that changed, once again on Thursday when the house closed. I am in the market for a used and reliable time machine to go back to last Tuesday, just in case you know anyone selling.

Some time between when I was there last Tuesday and when Calvin the Awesome arrived on Wednesday night, Diamond Jim's sister--mind you, she is in her 70s and just as ornery as her dear brother--showed up with some "charitable" organization and they helped themselves to all the remaining items in the home.

That wouldn't have been such an issue if they were actually entitled to all of the remaining items. Such things as the bookshelves, desk and a few other items were negotiated and were set aside for the buyers. Unfortunately, when I found out Sis was at the house, I called and she didn't answer. Then I texted and told her to leave everything. I thought that was a no-brainier. In my defense, if I had gotten into the car and drove over, I would have been too late anyway.

But, that's not all! Someone from the time I left last Tuesday to the time Calvin the Awesome showed up on Wednesday had pulled the garage door up, and managed to rip the garage door opener and brackets holding the garage door off the wall. This was done from the outside, by forcibly pushing the garage door towards the roof. This is a retirement neighborhood. Nobody touched the tools in the back tool shed (which now belong to the buyer), but someone took the time to RIP THE GARAGE DOOR OPENER AND BRACKETS HOLDING THE GARAGE DOOR OFF THE WALL! I suspect, as does Diamond Jim Junior, it was the "charitable" organization that Sis met at the house. Instead of using her key to enter, they broke in through the garage door (they could have even called me to let them in, I would have been happy to do so).

Speaking of charitable, when the house closed on Thursday, I got another call from Calvin the Awesome. He said he was at the house at that very moment. There were now the former bookshelves in a heap of splinters on the side of the home. They weren't there the day before. And now these once-bookshelves are nothing more than kindling.

"Its like someone just threw them off the back of a truck," Calvin naively said.

And worse, remember that garage door? From the time Calvin the Awesome and his lovely (and patient) clients left on Wednesday night to the time they arrived on Thursday to move into their new home, not only was there a scrap heap in the side yard, but someone had taken the time to bash the garage door in. There were footprints a few feet up the side of the garage door and it had been visibly kicked in about seven or eight inches. Again, like someone was trying to get in. Perhaps the assailant's intention was to lovingly set the bookshelves in the garage?

Junior and I ruminated whether or not Diamond Jim perhaps took an Uber to the house and kicked the garage door in. Probably not, I pointed out, he can't use his smart phone. "He could call a taxi," Junior countered.  I don't think it was Diamond Jim. Last I spoke with him (last month), he didn't remember where his old home was, much less have the strength to do that kind of damage.

In the end, the buyers elected for the sale to go forward without any recourse. I think they are owed recourse. Junior thinks so too. He said he will probably send them a check for a new garage door opener.  That's very sweet of him.

This week Diamond Jim gets the proceeds from his home sale. I am told he is buying a vehicle and moving to Oregon. I don't know the reality behind that. I will probably call him when I get back from Bonus Mom's memorial in a few weeks. Right now I am not ready to deal with what I have coming for abandoning him in this sale. That's more unnecessary drama I don't need right now.

Precautions

Once upon a time, around 2008 when vacant homes were plentiful, I was selling houses. Well, I was selling about as many homes as the next agent. But I was considered active in real estate.

Anyway, I had an investor who was looking for a rental property. One day, with nothing better to do, I swung by a home I knew he was interested in. It was in Apache Junction, on the way to nowhere. I didn't tell anyone I was going out there. I didn't call Marty once I arrived and gave him the address. It is safe to say, nobody knew where I was.

I walked into this vacant home and looked around. Living room. Kitchen right behind the back wall with a door to the back yard. Yep, looked ok to me. I checked the kitchen one more time. The stove and dishwasher were still there.

Moving on to the back of the house, to my left were the two secondary bedrooms. One door was open, one closed. No worries. I know what bedrooms look like. To my right was the hall bathroom and the door to the master bedroom. I walked into the master bedroom and farther into the room towards the master bathroom when I heard the closet door open in that secondary bedroom with the door closed. It was a clear, distinct sound that one could not mistake for anything else. And then I heard a sneeze.

Quickly, I started talking as if I were on the phone, "Oh Mary... Great I will see you and Greg at the house in what? Two minutes? You are right around the corner? That's great... I will meet you outside..." I said all these things as I quickly walked back to the front door. In no time flat I was in my car, doors locked and on the road.

Since then I make very sure to put on my calendar the address I am going to, the phone number of the client I will be with and whatever particulars necessary. I text Marty when I arrive. He is to call me if he doesn't hear from me in 10 minutes of our first communication. I then alert him when I leave. If I am previewing homes, I will put the list of each home on my calendar and send the addresses to Marty. I have been doing this practice for ten years.  It might not save my life, but it will at least tell the police where to find me.

And finally, I knock or ring the doorbell when I go to a vacant home. For the most part, someone squatting in a vacant home doesn't want to be found, any more than I want to find them. I am good with that.

Knocking Experience

Dee and her Merry Band of Felons have put another offer in on a home. Keeping with tradition, this one is also in one of the scarier neighborhoods of Phoenix. Friday, when we showed up to look at this vacant home, I knocked on the door--something I do out of habit and experience. When I unlocked the door, the chain was up.

I took all three of them with me as I went around back, with Mr. Dee innocently asking, "Why would the chain be on the front door."

"Someone is inside," I said, matter of factly, as I made sure we slowly (SLOWLY) went around back.

"How can that be?" Dee asked. "The house is vacant."

Next to me I could feel Seth, one of the favored felons they bring along, on the lookout. His body was tense and he moved me out of the way as we rounded the corner. I appreciate Seth.

As it turns out, the back door was wide open. Dee and I hung out in the back shed while the men went in to see if everything was good to go ("oh what a lovely space..." Dee casually said, looking at this sweltering room, with me and my cell phone in hand ready to call 911).

For the second time this week, I have predicted what I didn't want to predict*. Yep, there had been a squatter in the house. In fact, that person--we think it was a woman--left so quickly she didn't even stop to grab her phone or money. She also left behind a bra and a lit cigarette. My guess is she jumped the side fence, where there was a staircase of bricks up against it, as we slowly (SLOWLY) made our way around to the back of the property.

It was hot Friday, with a high of 109 degrees. The house was frosty cold. I was sorry I didn't have some water to leave at the house in case she came back. I called over the wall and down the street looking for someone but nobody owned up to having been there. Seth pointed out I didn't want her back. Who knows if she was on something or had a weapon or a friend with a weapon. We didn't touch her belongings, instead leaving them where we found them.

Shortly after we arrived, the agent showed up and said the police were on their way over. Seth asked Dee to skedaddle, not wanting to be anywhere around Phoenix's finest. So, I stayed while the agent did another recon on the home. I was able to get him to commit to changing the locks (there was no forced sign of entry, so I think she had a key) and take down the real estate sign. Also, Dee is asking if she can park a spare car in the driveway if this gets into escrow--just to make sure it looks occupied.

"I don't remember anything in my real estate classes about this kind of thing," the agent said, frustrated and astonished this happened. I don't either, but let's face it, I have learned more from experience than the classroom. And that is why I knock on the doors of vacant homes before I go in. I have run into this kind of thing once or twice before.


*My other prediction was the seller of the margarita sale would call me if it fell out of escrow. Sorry I was right about that one too.

The Margarita Agent

I honestly believe, the only reason this margarita transaction* (the one I have been working on all week) is going through is because the other agent is easy to work with. We are both working in the best interests of our clients. Even though we are frustrated, we really are committed to our clients. Maybe he has a quasi-public blog to vent his frustrations? If not, I highly recommend he get one.

But on top of that, we can laugh and realize there are some human elements too. Neither of us have egos attached to the sale (we have clients doing that for us, thankyouverymuch). We work for our buyer and seller and I can tell he is as committed as I am to a smooth transaction. It is a breath of fresh air.

Difficult clients come and go. It is a fact of life moving is stressful. Selling a home is stressful. Buying a home is stressful. We recognize our clients are in that space from the get-go. Quirky personalities fuel that stress. We, the other agent and I, know this and we know even though our buyer and seller on opposite sides of the fence, they are really after the same goal: Move on with their lives.

Sometimes I don't work with agents who are as agreeable. Sometimes I work with agents who have no people skills and have the aptitude only to work as a prison guard in some banana republic. And sometimes I have to hold the hand of the other agent and tell them what to do. This agent is a cut above the rest. I am really enjoying that part of this sale. The rest of it, so far not so much.

*Dubbed the margarita transaction because he keeps threatening to drink a few if this insanity doesn't stop. I asked him to save me a bar stool. 

Desperate Negotiating

Just when I thought I was done, we aren't.

The sale I had been writing about all week fell out of escrow this morning. I tried to bet the agent his client would call me if it fell out of escrow. He wouldn't take the bet, because it doesn't take a psychic to know what was going to happen. His client left a message for me before noon today.

A few moments later the agent called me. His client had a change of heart and was agreeing to all the outrageous terms I threw out earlier this week if my buyers would just come back to the table. Marty said this was rock star negotiating. I think it was a desperate seller who already closed on his new home.

"No!" I cried. "Please, NO!" and then I had to disclose to the other agent the garbage my client pulled, which I think made him feel a teensy bit better that it wasn't his Karma that was attracting these yahoos. My client fired his loan officer early last week, did not tell me, and then told me after the close of business Friday they don't have the down payment and never had the down payment to buy the home. So, even if the sale went through, it wasn't going through.

The selling agent, unclear as to my consternation, started with "oh please.... see if your buyers will play along....I can get you a loan officer who rocks... please.... Don't make me have to put this house back on the market with this guy..." and other types of requests.

Anyway, I have written up a new contract. It needs to be signed. I am waiting for my client to 1) get prequalified with a loan officer he likes and 2) verify he has the down payment. This time I want bank statements. The new terms (the outrageous ones) should make this an easier sale for the buyer. He doesn't need to come in with as much money.

Right now we have a verbal agreement between the agents (he and I) that we will make this sale work. I pushed the closing date back a week, because, there is a new loan officer and the Independence Day holiday. And with all that, I am still asking for the seller to put up a pool fence. I figure the seller will just say no and that will be a small victory for him.

Margaritaville

The agent for client A called me, he said, "There's 20 minutes of my life I can't get back..."

"So we have a go?" I stupidly asked.

"Not even close. It took him 10 seconds to say no and another 19 minutes and 50 seconds to explain why."

I thanked for his time and effort. Then I wished him well. This agent is a really nice guy. He told me he was turning off his phone and getting a margarita. He doesn't know this, but he would not have had a liver left if this sale went through, and not because of his client either. A cancellation is for the best.

Client A/B Negotiations

Mmmmm....  Tacos (and ice cream!)

So here we are, both agents are ready to make impromptu voodoo dolls of our clients if we have to do this much longer. I am of the mind, I want this over now. The other agent is of the mind that he wants this sale to close, because he is stuck with his client. Mind you, the other agent knows nothing about the trouble with my client. But trust me, he would be just as outraged if he knew (and if this transaction continues, he will have to know).

The old adage, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, holds true. The other agent and I are buddies at this point. We, the buyer's side, have asked for something highly outrageous. The seller has countered back slightly with a bruised ego and hurt feelings. We are (once again) countering back with the same outrageous demands, with the understanding my clients will walk if they don't get what they want.

Folks, this is all the fun Zillow never tells you about.

I even offered to bet the other agent a margarita that if this fell out of escrow, his client would be calling me in a snit. He refused to take the bet. But he did offer to drink the margarita I would have won.

All the other agent and I want to do at this point is open a taco/ice cream stall on the beach.

A Tale of Two Clients

Client A is a right-brained Type-A, who after owning his beloved home for 28 years has opted to downsize. He and his Mrs. are moving to a new-build community in Florence, AZ because 1) it is cheap to live three miles from the Federal Prison and 2) everything in the new home is new and he doesn't have to deal with anyone else's idea of repairs. A proud homeowner, he considers himself a "hobbyist" and has done many do-it-yourself projects to his home he is selling.

Speaking of selling, before he hired a real estate agent, he read every Zillow story on "how to sell your home without an agent" and "knows"  what he is doing. He agreed (probably from the urging of his wife) to hire an agent (probably a friend of the family) and I would bet my cat it was only at a reduced commission.

Client A insisted on his price because Zillow said so. Comparable homes, the Taj Mahal, Buckingham Palace and the Vanderbuilt Mansion, are the only properties that measure up to his. Anything in his cookie-cutter neighborhood isn't a good comp. Meanwhile, he has contacted his agent at least ten times a day, asking why his home hasn't sold and why his agent hasn't done what he is paying (presumably a reduced) commission for his services. I am guessing part of the reason the agent hasn't lived up to Client A's expectations is because Client A keeps changing them when he micromanages. Client A is the seller of a home my buyers are purchasing.

Client B is my buyer, a slick sales guy who was remotely related to the real estate industry in 2004. He is convinced he is a master negotiator, and doesn't tell his agent or loan officer many details, instead allowing the above mentioned folks to draw causality from the breadcrumbs he intentionally sets out. He treats his wife the way he treats his agent and loan officer--arms length, him the ultimate authority. Client B is self-employed and likes to have an element of control. Period.

Meanwhile, the agents of Client A and B are trying to hammer out negotiations for the home inspection. Just so we are clear: the home price has been agreed upon, with the seller feeling like they "came down" on the price and are giving the home away. What is currently happening is Client B has asked for some repairs. Client A can say yes or no.

Part of the repairs is for a new roof because the roof report said the current roof is beyond its life expectancy. It is rotted in places. The underlayment is corroded and many, many tiles are broken. There is evidence of past leaks. Additionally, the buyer is asking for new fan motors on the 28 year old air conditioners to be replaced. The reason for this is that they don't work properly, even though Client A--the seller--doesn't seem to feel this is an issue because cold-ish air blows through the ducts.

There are a few other repairs, like a poorly installed gas hot water heater that is a complete and total fire hazard as well as significant termite issues. Also, there were many other items that weren't asked for that should have been, like pool equipment that is about a foot under grade and if there is a leak, or a heavy rain, it would be partially submerged.

All of the above is to tell you about the phone call I got today. The agent of the seller (Client A) called, inquired about my health, life in general and all sorts of pleasantries one usually reserves for delaying the inevitable bad news. I don't know the other agent, but I feel for him. His client calls him all day, every day. When he doesn't get a call back within five minutes (even at 11 p.m. at night), he begins to text. It isn't that the seller is anxious, it is just that he has control issues.

Anyway, the gist of the repair request is the seller doesn't agree that any of this needs to be done and he is being a tad defensive. I considered this good news because I am a bit annoyed with my client right now and hope this falls out of escrow. My client may have said some things that could, if pressed be construed as misrepesenting their position. However, the selling agent (who happens to be a broker) says, "This sale has got to go through. I do not want this to go back on the market and I don't want to deal with this man any longer. What do your buyers want? Name it and I will see if I can make it happen."

I can't tell you about why I want this to fall out of escrow, but I really hope it does, because it won't close if this sale goes forward under these terms. But, for now I have to play along. If it stays in escrow it is because, with my buyer's blessing, I threw out the most outrageous negotiating item I possibly could, thinking there is no way anyone would agree to this. However, it would be the ONLY way this sale would go through. When I told the selling agent what I was asking for, he sounded like an eager puppy. "I will see what I can do and get back to you. I promise!"

Good MLS Photos (on the Right)

A few months ago I mentioned I had this investor who wanted to sell their home but not put it on the Multiple Listing Service. Well, they changed their mind. It is now for sale. Here are some photos I took on the left, on the right are the professional ones.
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Mint Chip or Strawberry?

Nobody is ugly to the ice cream goddess

I have buyers who are now telling me they entered into their home purchase contract in bad faith. I am feeling used. I have to tell the selling agent but I am not sure what to say because I am getting so many mixed messages from the buyers. But what I am reading is my clients have no intention of following through.

They lied to me. They lied to their loan officer. They lied to the sellers. They signed a legally binding contract. But that doesn't matter to them. They have been advised this is a problem, but aren't listening.

I hate this kind of stuff. When they don't get their earnest money--because they aren't entitled to it if they don't follow through--they will blame me. They are the type to sue. What can I say to a judge? "I advised them." Repeatedly. Did I put it in writing that I advised them? No. I didn't know I needed to put into writing if they commit fraud and sign a contract in bad faith its a problem. I found out after the fact when they opted to have selective memory.

Even if they back out and get their money back (which I will have to fight for, because it is still my job, no matter how crappy they treat me), I will have spent a great deal of my time and energy with people who have no respect for me or what I do for a living. Then they will go off and buy a home from someone else.

There are days like today I want to open an ice cream shop.

Those Funeral Potatoes Rocked

Jane's Award

Jane, bless her, ordered me to go to a real estate shin-dig this morning. I obeyed because she is 9 days older than me. And, just to guilt me into going she paid my $17 fee to sit at the Woman's Council of Realtors, eat Funeral Potatoes and listen to a bunch of agents talking about how great real estate can be. This event is one of the many Mrs. Hufflepuff attends and Jane goes along as well. This week Jane also went to two formal dinners and something else, that I can't recall off-hand. Incidentally, Jane is having the time of her life working at Mrs. Hufflepuff's brokerage. I am so glad.

All of these events are nice and all (Mrs. Hufflepuff was up for "Humanitarian of the Year" at the local Realtor Association black-tie affair two nights ago, but she didn't win). But, these events don't sell homes. In fact, personally, I find mingling with other real estate agents counter-productive to finding clients. But, that's just me.

The speakers today were from a Hispanic real estate-related organization--loan officers and title people for the most part--and they were there to tell us how to relate to the Latino population, because--according to them--we just don't know how to treat others, no matter what color the skin. It turns out Latinos are family oriented. Yep. that was the big take from the hour long chat.

They said--and I am not making this up--realtors don't know how to be nice to others, apparently. It seems nobody (but me) thought the concept was offensive. I would have been called racist among this group of squishys if I had suggested that most people are family oriented and folks in general want to be treated with dignity and respect. And, because I was Jane's guest, I behaved.

Oh there was one other take-away. Latinos don't always speak English as their first language, so if I have a non-English speaking client I should get an interpreter, which might be my clients' young child. That's all well and good, but I am not about to explain legal documentation through a six year old. What I am going to do is pass on this potential lawsuit (for me) to a Spanish speaking agent. Besides the AZ Real Estate Commissioner has plenty to say about agents who work outside their scope of knowledge. My Spanish isn't good enough to conduct business. That sounds like working outside my scope of knowledge to me (hence, a potential lawsuit if I were to pursue this).

Jane also won an award for being awesome--because she is. And apparently she is running for treasurer. Though I never suggested I was interested in joining, Mrs. Hufflepuff reminded me to pay my dues for this organization before August so I could vote for Jane. Then she hugged me. Squishy people do that too. As for me, I just wanted the Funeral Potatoes.



Note: want to make your own Funeral Potatoes? Here is a link. I don't know if this recipe is as good as what I had today, but there is no such thing as bad Funeral Potatoes. 

Today's Adulting

I went with my 80 year old father to the attorney's office today for him to finalize his will. Actually, I have gone several times across town for this specific task, but today it actually happened. I am tired of driving.

Dad has been quiet about the entire will-thing, with him giving me glimpses on occasion and me never asking. I don't know if he had mentioned anything to my brothers. Nor do I know why he specifically wanted me to be at the office with him, but he continued to ask, so I went.

Anyway, we walked in today, and the paralegal asked if Dad wanted advanced directives. He said, "what's that?" and I said, "yes, he does."

She then asked if he needed a medical power of attorney. Before Dad could answer, I said, "YES!" If working with Diamond Jim has taught me anything, it is that medical power of attorneys are necessary long before they are necessary. If Junior had a medical power of attorney, poor Diamond Jim would be in such better shape.

As we read over ever document--he handed me each page as he read it--I made comments and changes, like I would with any contract. It was so second nature to me, that I didn't think anything of telling the paralegal the correct spelling of my sister-in-law's name, or adding my brother to a certain bequest my dad made to my other brother and me. Dad didn't stop me, which I realized afterwards was kind of strange.

Apparently--I found this out at the lawyer's office--I am the executor. This isn't really that much of a shock, even though it kind of is. It was going to be me or my youngest brother. I certainly don't want to make medical decisions that may affect the outcome of his life. That's a huge burden. The advance directive helps, but there is still that responsibility hovering overhead.

In truth, even though I feel totally icky about this entire thing, I am glad he took care of this. There are a few looming issues that were a concern. Knowing he has made clear what is to happen, makes our lives easier. Hopefully. When we were leaving, I said to him, "This doesn't mean you can die. You have at least another 20 years."

Feeding the Soon-To-Be Homeless

Well, Calvin the Awesome is also Calvin the Accommodating. You see, he sent me a text asking a favor. Would my seller mind if his buyers put their food in the refrigerator of the home they are buying? You see, they are selling their home but aren't buying this new house until three days later.

That would be Diamond Jim's home, by the way.

To be fair, nobody is using the refrigerator at this time and the power is on. However, I am not a fan of this. Calvin hasn't been an agent as long as I have, so he is missing out on the war wounds. "What if the power goes out? Who is responsible for the buyer's food?" I asked. Calvin said the buyer would be.

"Why should my seller pay for the electricity to store your client's food?" I asked.

"My buyers will transfer the power to their name. Calvin countered.

"Are closing docs at title so your buyers can sign, proving this home is going to close?"

And then there were crickets.

"Check back with me when closing docs are at the title office. Perhaps we can close early?" I suggested.

The truth is Junior doesn't care if the buyers store the food in the house. I am not talking to Diamond Jim, so I don't know what he would think of this arrangement. However, I don't want the buyers in the home for any reason until it closes. Putting food in the refrigerator doesn't necessarily mean, putting food in the refrigerator. It could mean placing a moving box here or there. Who knows, perhaps they will even set up a bed and stay the night! Don't roll your eyes. It happens.

I loathe having to write up an addendum addressing the storage and care of a jar of mayonnaise and some rocky road ice cream. Frankly, I think Calvin's clients could have planned out their shopping a bit more carefully but then I wouldn't have had this post to write.

Bad MLS Photos

Honestly, I don't put a lot of effort into this particular segment. Other agents do it for me.

The rule of MLS photos is to tell a story, with the result of selling the client's home. Let's just keep that in mind, shall we?

Dear Agent, if you can snap the picture, then you can make the bed first. Please! I know it isn't the agent's job to make the bed, but it helps sell the home.

Also, get out of the car to snap the picture! 

Is it me, or does it look like this truck is partially inside the home? 

Yes, this picture is on the MLS, and the Internet for that matter, just like this. Those are French doors by the way. It took me a minute to figure it out. 

Wonder if a buyer would question the structural integrity of this property? I wonder if the agent did as he stood under this roof. 

It isn't just messy homes and questionable building practices. Sometimes it is just a bad photo filter, making everything look terra cotta orange. Just like in the 1970s. 

And finally, this is a $500,000 home. Yes, HOME. This is the only picture in this listing that shows actual property. Anyone want to take bets whether or not the agent got out of the car to snap this one? This owner is paying for this kind of service. 

The Realtor Community

One of my biggest concerns about opening a brokerage was that I don't know what I don't know. Since January I spend a lot of time reading real estate case law and checking out, "this happened" stories that the local Realtor associations put out. What I am learning is extraordinarily fascinating for this contract-nerd, but it also scares the stuffing out of me.

However, I am so happy and grateful for all of the support I get from others in my industry. The seller calling me this week could have likely been an ethics violation against me. It was stupid to tell him, yes, go ahead and take the wallpaper off the walls. When I talked to the seller's broker about it (I called him to tell him what I had done), he and I laughed and shared some war stories. It was a relief to a situation that could have been extremely ugly.

A couple of times I have called other brokers I know, including El Jefe, to ask a question or two. The last call to El Jefe came with a, "You are a broker, figure it out." I pointed out it was nice he finally acknowledged I had my broker's license, as I had it when I worked for him too. "Touche'. What can I help you with?" he replied. Then he told me what I already knew, which was nice validation I was on the right path.

Mrs. Hufflepuff has been extremely gracious and I greatly appreciate it. She wants me to come work for her someday. It is a compliment, actually. Just like it is a compliment when an agent or two approaches me and asks if they can hang their license with my company.

I love how supportive and inclusive, as an industry real estate agents are. We all have a common goal--work for our clients. But, for the most part, we are friendly and helpful. I have fielded as many calls from other agents with questions as I have dished out over the years. I am happy to help anyone who approaches me. I consider it my obligation. I may be a one-woman business, but I am glad to know I am not out here alone.

Robbie Needs a New Book Club

So, for any one of you who stumbled across this site (Welcome! I promise you had to stumble to get here, as this is the least-read blog in all of cyber space. I am ok with that), and don't know the back story, I was once a landlord. There has been lots said about that in the past. But it can be summed up like this. I was once a landlord to a gazillion properties out of state. There was good stuff. There was bad stuff. There was more drama than necessary. The end.

My pal Robbie called me last night. He has been a landlord for about 12 months. The house in question is in the Phoenix metro area, but when he told me where it was, I wasn't willing to drive by the neighborhood in broad daylight with the car doors locked to see it. Anyway, Robbie has a tenant who has been struggling. And Robbie, being the epitome awesomeness (he really is pretty great), has been helping him out and giving him ample chances to take care of what he needs in order to pay the rent.

Except, Robbie is missing the experience to read the subtext of a few glaring messages from his tenant. First, the tenant has adulting issues. Second, the tenant doesn't give a rodent's posterior if Robbie is helping him out. The tenant is essentially taking advantage of Robbie's nice guyness.

Anyway, this past month Robbie accepted half a rent payment from his tenant with the understanding that the tenant would pay the other half last week. Now I know several of you are graduates of my How To Manage Rental Properties program and can guess what happened next. But for you new folks, here goes... The tenant hasn't paid the rest of the rent.

 I will wait here while you all gasp in shock. Take your time.

Robbie called me last night, asking if there was anything that can be done. You see, he read a book that said tenants will work with landlords who work with them. Tenants will be happy to hold up their end of the contract if a landlord cuts them a break. But, Robbie did not read the Arizona Landlord Tenant Act, which will supersede the above referenced book if Robbie needs to evict. And unfortunately, Robbie's book does suggest taking a partial payment if a tenant needs a break. After all, the tenant is happy to pay the rest in a timely manner. I wish I was making this up. I really do.

The critical error of course is that because Robbie took a partial payment, Robbie cannot evict the tenant until the next month rolls around. Robbie has agreed on a reduced rent amount this month, and there is nothing Robbie can do about it in the short term. In the long run he can deduct that amount from the tenant's security deposit, which I am sure Robbie is expecting to return because the property will be in tip-top condition when the tenant leaves. But barring that doesn't happen, Robbie will have to sue for the remaining rent. All of this legal process can be started as soon as the next month rolls over. Meanwhile the tenant knows that, because apparently he read the same book Robbie read.

Finn Sleeps on My Feet at Night

Every now and then, Marty and I get some wild idea that we can downsize our housing situation. We look at selling where we are now and renting in the area. The idea being we would be paying less in living expenses. There is no urgency to this, which is good, because we always come to the same conclusion.

Truly, we probably could cut our expenses if we wanted to make a few rental sacrifices. However, rents are exorbitant, so for what we pay for a mortgage payment, we would probably pay similar for a smaller rental home. Of course, a smaller (and preferably pool-free) home would also mean less electric and water bills too. Also, if I were to customize this potential rental home it would also be one floor instead of three.

You will just have to get your own foot warmer.

There are few reasons why renting isn't a plausible scenario. First, I have pets. And though I know I could give them up if I absolutely had to, right now they are decorative and don't eat too much. Plus, Ollie is currently sleeping under the desk, laying on my foot. A foot warmer is a pretty cool addition to any home.

The other super-nitpicky reason why renting is not exactly in the cards is we are less than a year off a bankruptcy. Though our income is reasonable, landlords see what is on paper. One bankruptcy can be a deal-killer, though it shouldn't have to be. A bankruptcy means I cannot bankrupt anyone else any time soon. Though, to be fair, I have no desire to ever go through that process again.

This morning I got on to MLS to see what was available for rent. Most rental listings said no pets. None of the homes in the price I wanted to spend were in any neighborhood I wanted to live in. And for those homes in the desirable neighborhoods (in our case, close to Polly and Marty's jobs, Longbow Golf Course, Sprouts, our church, a hiking area and our favorite grocery store) nothing was the size I am willing to live in with two teenagers and a couple of spares that show up on my couch on the weekends. If I had to downsize to half the size of home I have now, I would do so. But it is not necessary.

To make this a value to us, we would have to be willing to save more in downsizing than we lose on the moving expenses and tax deductions (I write off my home office as well take the mortgage deduction). What I am figuring is the cost to move to a rental has to save us more than $10,000 a year to just to break even. I don't think moving to a rental can come close to this. So, once again, having done this analysis, we decided we are staying in our home until something comes along that speaks to us. But this certainly isn't the season. And hopefully that something will allow for pets.

Living Passionately

I went to a self development retreat several weeks ago. I got a bit of clarity on a few items. First, I discovered introverts tend to flock together for safety reasons. True story. I accidentally sat by introverts pretty much the entire time. They accidentally sat by me, too. They were lots of fun and had boundaries I could respect. Also, I discovered introverts tend to be in sales. Why not? Easy superficial relationships. Our customers don't care about us. They want what I can provide then they move after six weeks. They then go away and can't hurt us. Whew.

On top of the above (which had nothing to do with the retreat)--and brought up a whole level of other questions about my life choices--I realized I am not passionate about what I do for a living. That's not to say I don't like selling homes. I actually do. Most of the time. I really like selling homes when my clients are not disagreeable. But, honestly, if we weren't climbing our way back from financial ruin and me working was completely optional, I wouldn't care if I sold another home. It is a great job for a homeschooling parent when the other spouse can carry in the insurance.

I have a few passion projects I am involved with that I will share when there is an update to offer. I see these endeavors as more of what I really want to do to add significance to my life. The real estate works for now. I am certainly not unhappy about it! But even Marty can see my heart is somewhere else long-term.

Calvin the Awesome

At the same time I am working with Alvin the Alpha (or was working with Alvin the Alpha) I am involved with a sale with Calvin the Awesome agent. I someday want to steal him when I get brave enough to bring on agents to my brokerage. He is the agent representing the buyers at Diamond Jim's house.

Calvin doesn't know the back drama of what has happened in the past couple of weeks, though he knows the locks were changed. Fortunately, Calvin has enough class not to ask why. His clients are so sweet. The Mr. is battling a losing cancer fight and wants to give his wife a home before he goes. The Mrs. is just darling. If I were ordering up a grandmother from Central Casting, I would pick her. They are such nice folks.

Calvin calls often to give me updates. He asked permission to give me a list of repairs. Like, "Hey, do you mind if we ask for this widget to be fixed..." Ask away. He didn't ask for much, but I would have gone to bat for whatever his folks had wanted. I think my clients--in this case, Junior--would have too.

It is so nice to work with a sane agent. They are out there. And they make this job so much more pleasant.

They Don't Want the Ugly Painting Either

This is a better picture than the one over the mantle. Trust me.

Last weekend I had the extraordinarily awkward experience of showing my buyers a house with the sellers home and waiting for us. I hate when that happens. These sellers, who apparently feel their agent does not know best (because they were told, repeatedly DO NOT BE HOME FOR THE SHOWING), did not leave. Instead, they followed my buyers around. "We did this to the home because the widget there was broken." "We can leave the (ugly) painting over the fireplace for you because it doesn't match the home we are CLOSING ON THIS NEXT FRIDAY." "Do you want the wallpaper removed? I am happy to do it."  These sellers said lots of things they didn't realize played into our hand. We know they are desperate. We know what is broken. We know what to ask for. We did all of the above.

Yesterday, the seller called me, super chipper like we were great pals. What did my clients think of the house? This was another awkward moment, because the seller should never call the buying agent. Ever. That's why they are paying for representation. I quickly got off the phone, making the legitimate excuse that I was out in North Phoenix for breakfast with my 80 year old father.

What I didn't tell him was my clients liked the home. I didn't need the seller telling the next potential buyer that comes along there might be an offer so they better get theirs in soon for a full-scale bidding war. That doesn't serve my client.

This morning I wrote up an offer. And yes, the wallpaper removal was written into the contract. So was the installation of the pool fence the seller suggested he would be willing to do. So was a price reduction because the seller said the AC was 28 years old. I also knew the seller was mildly desperate and a lot of other life-circumstances that are playing into our hand.

And, if I didn't know it prior to me writing up the contract, I knew it ten minutes later when the seller called, once again. This time I started the call with, "I cannot speak with you. You have a real estate agent representing you."

However, the seller dismissed this and instead started asking, "What changed the buyer's mind? I thought they liked my home. How come they didn't put an offer in?" (because we hadn't yet, that's all) "Do you think I should remove the wallpaper?" "Do you think I should paint the cabinets?" "Is the home well-priced? I think it is in line with what Zillow says... do you?" (argh!) "You are a woman. Why do you think my home hasn't sold? What else can I do to make the home more attractive?"

I would love to have answered that last one with "stop being so needy and let your agent do his job." Instead, I reminded him, once again, that we aren't supposed to be talking and I needed to go. I did sorta say sit tight, because I was sure an offer is coming soon.

My one super-foolish response that I wish I could take back was based on the fact the contract had already been written. I said, "Go ahead, remove the wallpaper." And looking back, that was just plain stupid. There was no contract in place and I got something for my clients outside of the the sale that should have been negotiable. Plus, even though I said this, who knows if my buyer's offer was going to be accepted. What if the seller took another offer but did what I told him to do? A judge would purse his lips in a disapproving manner if I had to explain that in court. Also, I was talking directly to a needy and desperate seller. And I knew it.

There are so many reasons why this was a wrong. Fortunately, when I confessed my sin to his agent, we both got a laugh out of it instead of what could have been an ugly situation. Dang! I know better. I have now blocked the seller's phone number. I don't want to get caught in that trap again.

As I write this, the contract has yet to be presented to the seller so I don't know what will come of this. However, I think the wallpaper is already off the walls.

Baggage

So, let me just say this for all you veterans of my blog ramblings. The very last vestige of the accidental business was laid to rest today. I didn't even know I could feel that level of relief.

Whew

Alpha Agents

Alpha Agents are just that, they thrive on having the upper hand. They want their clients to know that they are in control. They think they are taking charge. They say they are on top of their game. Ironically, they rarely are, but don't tell their ego.

Once in a while I run across one of these types and just roll my eyes. While the rest of us play for a win-win, they simply don't. My buyers don't expect to get everything they want, because what they really want is a house. The rest is truly gravy. My sellers know they may have to concede their expectations and they won't get Zillow's unrealistic the highest price they can imagine in order to move on with their life. Experience has taught me to give that expectation up front. Alpha agents don't. Their entire schick is, "I will get it done no matter what," and then gamble that everything will work in their favor. Many times "getting it done" comes at a higher cost than actually getting the house sold. But don't tell their ego that either.

Earlier in my real estate career, I used to be afraid of these yahoos. After all, they would say my name repeatedly as they made slightly unnerving comments. They would also use words and phrases such as, "I can't believe" and "obviously" and "reevaluate" and "I am shocked you don't realize," Alphas gaslight with snark like, "Mary, I can't believe how much you don't care about your clients? If you did, you would see things my way..." or "Mary, I think you need to go back and reevaluate your actions, maybe then you can see where you screwed up. I am shocked you don't realize, what you did. Obviously, if you did you would never have..." or (my favorite) "Mary, my clients are disappointed you didn't pay for the termite inspection like you said you would. So, are you going to live up to your word...?" (I never said I would pay for such thing, by the way.) It is as if Alphas are the utmost authority and everyone else simply should believe what they say, because noise comes out of their face.

Alphas were bullies in former jobs. Frankly, they still are. They tend to surround themselves with lackeys whose sole role is to feed the ego of the Alpha. And when they stop, the Alpha dismisses them with such drivel as, "Lackey, obviously you just don't want success as much as I do, otherwise you would have done..." and other passive-aggressive ugliness that is supposed to pass as coaching.

I had one Alpha Agent--the one who made a crack about the termite inspection--who, when I didn't kowtow to his crummy behavior, personally threatened me. Marty Sunshine insisted I get an Order of Protection, but I didn't want to give this jerk that much power. I figured he would go away when his buyers lost out on the house they wanted. He did go away, incidentally. He also sent me a half-apology via text message. "He hadn't been himself," he said. I would hate to see what "himself" really looked like.

Alphas no longer unnerve me. I see them for who they are. The easiest way to derail one is to just do my job correctly. I work for the client. That means I do what my client wants, not what I want. Clearly understanding my job makes my communication and intentions much more defined. I am clear what I do, and how I do it. And, if I get confused, I have a contract in place to remind me.

This past week, I had an Alpha Agent, tell me he wasn't happy. That's fine, I work for my client so the Alpha's happiness isn't important to me. My client's happiness is. I also pointed out in the contract where it said if my clients weren't happy with the dump home he was selling, they could back out. His sellers agreed to that too. Quoting the purchase contract just happens to be the second easiest way to derail an Alpha Agent.

A Thank You Goes A Long Way

Well, Dee and her Merry Band of Felons decided they weren't interested in a 1920, asbestos-filled home with broken floor joists, an advertised "new" AC that was actually new in the Carter administration and promised a plethora of other safety and health issues. I can't say I blame them. I wasn't interested from the first day I saw the joint.

The known member of one of Phoenix's most violent gangs lives directly across the street doesn't seem to concern them. Dee or one of her Felons--I don't remember who--told me the gangs in the area don't go after Christians. I suspect they may want to check their world history on that one. Perhaps the New Testament might be a starting point. There's a precedent. I promise.

They also feel feel the three-foot chain link fence around the perimeter provides a hypothetical aura of safety that I know I took advantage of when I parked my car in the front yard (note: I didn't feel safer). The home inspector and AC tech also parked inside the perimeter fence too, but I don't think it did anything for their comfort either. I just wish Dee and her Merry Band of Felons would start picking neighborhoods that are slightly more upscale (they can afford it). But that's not for me to judge.

The one major advantage Dee and her Merry Band of Felons have going for them is that they are nice people. They are respectful. They are considerate and kind. They recognize this is a job for me and not a hobby. They don't treat me like a tour guide. I appreciate that. I will go to bat for people like this any day of the week. Those are the kinds of clients who make me feel like my job has purpose.