Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Zillow Strikes Again
When lamenting with Jane about yesterday's sale that got away, she asked, "Do you think someone will pay the $15,000 more for her house?"
The answer is no. There are four other homes within a half mile that are the same floor plan and are all priced at around $15,000 less than hers. None of them have anything less than what she is offering, and I believe one of the comparable homes even has a pool. The neighborhood is a cookie-cutter 2004 neighborhood with mediocre schools. It does not offer any sort of draw that the other six 2004 cookie-cutter neighborhoods adjoining this one has.
So, unless this seller is passing out gold bouillon with ever sale, there is nothing so significant about her house that will make a buyer gravitate to her home over ones which are priced substantially lower. In addition to all of that, the showing directions state the house is hard to see and the commission is lower. Good luck to both the agent and seller.
The agent is doing what the client wants. That is the agent's job. The client looked on Zillow and took Zillow's word that her house was worth this ridiculous price. It is too bad, because the agent probably showed her real data instead of the Zillow number. The agent's true transgression is she was willing to take the listing over-priced.
What will happen is the house will sit. The client will be frustrated the house hasn't sold. The home will become stigmatized because it has been on the market too long. The agent will suggest price reductions, only to be told by her client that she (the agent) isn't doing her job. In the end the seller will take a low-ball, at-market offer and resent it. The agent will have spent more time and money to market this place (with a lower commission to pay for her advertising). The client will bad-mouth the agent for being "incompetent," and not give her any future business or referrals. Nobody will be happy.
Monday, February 25, 2019
Adventures in Dignity
Being in sales, I am acutely aware customers get away. Sometimes I am happy to release them, as these potential clients scream, "I am a complete and total pain in the ass!" loud and clear. Sometimes I scratch my head, wondering if I did something to offend. No matter what, I have yet to find a situation where it wasn't in my best interests to move on.
Though I like my end game (groceries, electricity and gasoline), there is more satisfaction to what I do than my bank account thanking me. I love helping people as they transition to the next phase of their life. There truly is satisfaction in that.
I have worked with clowns in the past, where, knowing what I was in for, I didn't turn down the sales and regretted it. These days, I turn down clown clients. A friend said bad attorneys work with bad clients. I think the same can be said for real estate agents. Who needs that?
All self-righteousness aside, I have to tell you, when the clowns turn me down, it still stings a little. A few months ago, I met with a woman for a home selling consultation. She wanted to sell her house. But there was so much baggage attached to her house sale it promised to be a minor-chaotic nightmare.
There were potential and significant legal hazards.
And tax consequences.
And showing issues.
And pricing issues ("but Zillow says!").
Like the dutiful sales person I claim to be, I have contacted this woman on and off for months, saying hello, and for whatever reason, expecting she would contact me when she was ready to sell (she assured me she would be calling). I stumbled upon her house today, listed with someone else. Ouch.
The house is $15,000 higher than the rest of the neighborhood. The commission is super-low. The showing directions are limited, so good luck seeing the interior.
This woman owed me nothing and that's exactly what I got. Marty suggested some other agent is probably going to fare worse than I will. At least I will still have my dignity when all is said and done.
Though I like my end game (groceries, electricity and gasoline), there is more satisfaction to what I do than my bank account thanking me. I love helping people as they transition to the next phase of their life. There truly is satisfaction in that.
I have worked with clowns in the past, where, knowing what I was in for, I didn't turn down the sales and regretted it. These days, I turn down clown clients. A friend said bad attorneys work with bad clients. I think the same can be said for real estate agents. Who needs that?
All self-righteousness aside, I have to tell you, when the clowns turn me down, it still stings a little. A few months ago, I met with a woman for a home selling consultation. She wanted to sell her house. But there was so much baggage attached to her house sale it promised to be a minor-chaotic nightmare.
There were potential and significant legal hazards.
And tax consequences.
And showing issues.
And pricing issues ("but Zillow says!").
Like the dutiful sales person I claim to be, I have contacted this woman on and off for months, saying hello, and for whatever reason, expecting she would contact me when she was ready to sell (she assured me she would be calling). I stumbled upon her house today, listed with someone else. Ouch.
The house is $15,000 higher than the rest of the neighborhood. The commission is super-low. The showing directions are limited, so good luck seeing the interior.
This woman owed me nothing and that's exactly what I got. Marty suggested some other agent is probably going to fare worse than I will. At least I will still have my dignity when all is said and done.
Saturday, February 23, 2019
Inga's Adventures
Last week, Inga watched as two parole officers escorted Shane out of her home. They suggested she sleep somewhere else that night and get an order of protection as soon as humanly possible the next morning. Instead, she got a text from Shane saying, "You won this round but I will win the war. May God have mercy on your soul. This isn't a threat." And when she returned from the hotel (without the order of protection), Shane had moved out. He isn't in jail and he has friends lurking nearby.
Since that day, I have heard from Inga several times with, "I am selling the house." to "I am not selling the house." to "I got a dog. I friended you on Facebook so you can see it." I saw the dog and the subsequent messes he has made that she has proudly displayed on social media. I am pretty sure if I put the house on the market, she isn't selling the house.
Inga is feeling pressured by life for a myriad of reasons. Though she may think that selling her house may solve a few, I suspect that pressure will be following her where ever she goes. There are a lot of decisions that have played into this point in her life. None of them are instantaneous and all of them are part of decisions that have led her to where she is now.
It reminds me of the "Choose Your Own Adventure" series I read as a kid. If I chose to look into the treasure chest, turn to page 16. If I chose to follow Billy down the path towards the beach, skip to page 103. Inga is living this. Each decision she is making seems to be made out of poor planning. I feel for her. I don't want to fix her, but I don't want to be in the wake of her karma either.
Since that day, I have heard from Inga several times with, "I am selling the house." to "I am not selling the house." to "I got a dog. I friended you on Facebook so you can see it." I saw the dog and the subsequent messes he has made that she has proudly displayed on social media. I am pretty sure if I put the house on the market, she isn't selling the house.
Inga is feeling pressured by life for a myriad of reasons. Though she may think that selling her house may solve a few, I suspect that pressure will be following her where ever she goes. There are a lot of decisions that have played into this point in her life. None of them are instantaneous and all of them are part of decisions that have led her to where she is now.
It reminds me of the "Choose Your Own Adventure" series I read as a kid. If I chose to look into the treasure chest, turn to page 16. If I chose to follow Billy down the path towards the beach, skip to page 103. Inga is living this. Each decision she is making seems to be made out of poor planning. I feel for her. I don't want to fix her, but I don't want to be in the wake of her karma either.
Friday, February 22, 2019
Vacation Planning
About once a week I have a mild fit caused by the outrage I am experiencing from my children. They are insisting on growing up. I am none-too-happy about it. I love them. I love being a mother. I love watching them grow and blossom. I just hate that it is coming to an end too soon.
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| Uncle Sunshine's Island |
A few weeks ago, it occurred to me that as Polly is wanting to spread her wings and Buck is finding other hobbies, our family vacations are becoming few and far between. Yes, we went to visit my brother in California at Thanksgiving, but the highlight (outside of my wonderful brother and sister in law) was the yoga class Brother #1 dragged me to on Saturday morning. Or maybe the garage sale we went to afterwards where I stood around for 2,000 hours while he bought $478,081 worth of vinyl records.
After a family meeting, it was decreed we would be on vacation this summer. Normally vacations are in winter, but with Buckaroo's school and the fact Uncle Sunshine continually asks us not to come visit at his very busy time, we are going this summer. I am not quite sure we have ever taken a vacation in the summer.
What surprised me is the degree of details and opinions everyone had as we planed this trip. One member of our family wanted to fly (#teamfly!) two wanted to drive--no matter what--and one wanted to fly if that meant we could get there sooner or drive if it meant we could stop by a specific restaurant that is only located in Branson MO and Mobile AL that has good macaroni and cheese. And if we did so, could we stop by a different restaurant in Pensacola FL on the other end of our trip that has good bread sticks? Once it was assured that could happen, Marty recruited this child to #teamdrive.
Because we are driving. The kids had opinions about which hotels we would be staying in (the one near the Krispy Kreme in El Paso for example) and which ones we would not stay at, no matter what (the gross one in Ocala Florida). They had opinions about where we would stop for gas. And how we would arrange our dining, digestive and driving schedule to ensure we would be stopping HERE.
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| Not Uncle Sunshine's Island |
Our family has differing opinions on the Happiest Place on Earth. I am ready to curl up with a good book, jig saw puzzle or my laptop and work on the Great American Novel at the beach on Uncle Sunshine's island. Internet is sketchy. Cell service is questionable. It is remote and once on the island, the closest gem of civilization is the convenience store on the other side of the island that serves ice cream. One gets there by bypassing the snapping tortoises and walking about a mile through a winding jungle path.
The other three fourths of our family happen to think a specific theme park in Orlando is Heaven on Earth. And they have specific options about this too. Everything from the hotel we will be staying at to which character we should meet on which day has been evaluated and careful thought given. And let me tell you even the hotel pool has gone under scrutiny!
I love how much effort and detail my family is putting into the planning of this trip. It makes it more fun for me to know this is what they want (I would have gone to Washington D.C. or Alaska if they would have agreed). I just wish they would stay smaller a wee bit longer so I can hold on to them a bit more.
Thursday, February 21, 2019
Half Way Through GRI
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| My Sixth Class |
Normally, I have always liked Agency classes, until this one. The instructor was hell-bent on making it as dry and uninteresting as it could be. And great news! He succeeded.
I passed the test and don't have to think about any Agency class for another year. And next time it will be with an instructor with a wee bit of charisma.
What I found interesting is that as time marches on, so does my experience. With the exception of the instructor, I had the most years logged in the business. I was one of two brokers. Either one of us could have taught the class. And perhaps if we did it would have been more interesting.
The class was being offered in our local realtor association's classroom. As an interesting side note, between Jane and I, we have hung out at the local realtor association about eight times this month. Normally I strive to be the kind of person who hangs out at the local association zero times each month.
Wednesday, February 20, 2019
Coded
As part of the arbitration process with the local association, all involved (with the grievance committee, high inquisitor squad, appeals panel and board of directors) had to sit through a "Professional Standards Training" class yesterday. However, I wish it counted for continuing education credit because it was more interesting than the Code of Ethics class I am required to take on a regular basis.
What I did notice was how my social awkwardness seems to follow me into middle age. When it came time to turn to one's partner sitting next to us to work on the case studies, both people on each side turned away from me (making one group uneven) so I ended up working by myself. When I later nudged my way into a group, I was summarily snubbed. When it came time to play Code of Ethics Jeopardy, our team captain, looking to his team for answers, kept ignoring my answers--even though I was in the front row and my answers were correct. We lost by the way.
I ate lunch by myself too.
After class I ran into a broker whose company has given me a lot of business in the past. A LOT of business. After a few pleasantries, and "What are you up to these days?" ("Glad you asked. I opened my own brokerage. And how are you doing?") I gave him my new business card and dropped all of my papers, tablet and the contents of my purse all over the place.
It was seventh grade all over again.
All that self-pity party aside, the class was informative. I would tell you I was glad I went, but it was mandatory.
Now if I could just figure out this people-thing.
What I did notice was how my social awkwardness seems to follow me into middle age. When it came time to turn to one's partner sitting next to us to work on the case studies, both people on each side turned away from me (making one group uneven) so I ended up working by myself. When I later nudged my way into a group, I was summarily snubbed. When it came time to play Code of Ethics Jeopardy, our team captain, looking to his team for answers, kept ignoring my answers--even though I was in the front row and my answers were correct. We lost by the way.
I ate lunch by myself too.
After class I ran into a broker whose company has given me a lot of business in the past. A LOT of business. After a few pleasantries, and "What are you up to these days?" ("Glad you asked. I opened my own brokerage. And how are you doing?") I gave him my new business card and dropped all of my papers, tablet and the contents of my purse all over the place.
It was seventh grade all over again.
All that self-pity party aside, the class was informative. I would tell you I was glad I went, but it was mandatory.
Now if I could just figure out this people-thing.
Tuesday, February 19, 2019
Inga Update
I have been in contact with Inga, just making sure she is safe. Shane, after the police came the second time Sunday (when HE called) and the police realized he doesn't own the house but instead Inga does, changed his tactic and offered an olive branch. Of course no rent came with the peace offering or even a bonafied lease.
To the surprise of nobody other than Inga, nothing has been said by Shane since Saturday about purchasing the home. Sociopaths don't seem to keep very good track of their lies, do they?
Hopefully she will talk to a lawyer and his parole officer* today. If she doesn't, I hope she finds a way to stay safe. I am no psychic, but even I can see how this peace treaty will play out once Shane finds out she talks with the lawyer and his parole officer.
As she hasn't taken my Landlord 101 course, most of what I said about her legal rights went in one ear and out the other. And as she hasn't taken my "How Dare You Allow Yourself to be Treated This Way!" course, she really wasn't open to my opinion on that subject either. I don't care if I sell her house. I do care if she is abused. At the risk of sounding callous--because I don't mean to be--there isn't much more I can do at this point. She needs to garner whatever strength or resources she has to shovel herself out of this mess. I hope she does.
*On a side note, I found an obscure advantage to working with Dee and her Merry Felons. I was able to call one and ask a few questions about how parole works. I shared my findings with Inga.
To the surprise of nobody other than Inga, nothing has been said by Shane since Saturday about purchasing the home. Sociopaths don't seem to keep very good track of their lies, do they?
Hopefully she will talk to a lawyer and his parole officer* today. If she doesn't, I hope she finds a way to stay safe. I am no psychic, but even I can see how this peace treaty will play out once Shane finds out she talks with the lawyer and his parole officer.
As she hasn't taken my Landlord 101 course, most of what I said about her legal rights went in one ear and out the other. And as she hasn't taken my "How Dare You Allow Yourself to be Treated This Way!" course, she really wasn't open to my opinion on that subject either. I don't care if I sell her house. I do care if she is abused. At the risk of sounding callous--because I don't mean to be--there isn't much more I can do at this point. She needs to garner whatever strength or resources she has to shovel herself out of this mess. I hope she does.
*On a side note, I found an obscure advantage to working with Dee and her Merry Felons. I was able to call one and ask a few questions about how parole works. I shared my findings with Inga.
Monday, February 18, 2019
Saturday Afternoon
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| Trust Your Gut |
Inga (to refresh your memory, click here, here and here) called me Saturday morning (in the middle of my other drama). She had someone living at her home who wants to buy it. Could I come over?
I am going to see about condensing down the rest. The drama is still unfolding, and as it is a holiday, I doubt she will get any resolution today. I also suspect this will not turn out well for Inga unless she fights back.
I arrived to Inga's home Saturday afternoon. I was told Shane (her roommate) wanted to buy Inga's place. I was also told by Inga it was a hostile situation. She was anxious and Liam showed up some time as well when we were chatting.
Her roommate came out, and sweet as honey said, "There is no hostility" (telling me he was eavesdropping). Shane said he just bought a condo for $400k in cash on "Thomas and Encanto*" he was going to rent out to his nephew. However, his nephew can't afford the $2,300 a month rent, so Inga's modest little home, 20 miles from this condo, would be a great alternative.
Shane, unprompted, proceeded to hand me an envelope as proof he purchased this condo. It included a smattering of real estate documents. None had first pages, his name on them, or were complete. Imagine if you will, proving you paid your taxes by handing the IRS the second page of the 1040, the third page of a Schedule C, the first page of a Minnesota State tax return and a few pages of tax code thrown in for good measure. Once Shane saw me rifling through these documents, he took them back, telling me he was a stock broker and had a trust fund and had "millions" of dollars available.
Shane said he worked with two agents on a regular basis. I directed him to talk with one of the two (he handed me both cards), and if they were going to be under contract, not to discuss the sale between Shane, Inga and Liam. He agreed, sagely saying he understood--as he had been in many sales like this before.
He asked me for a price and I turned to Liam and Inga and said, "It was on the market last time for what? $250,000?" Last time it was not that high, but hell would freeze over before I gave him my client's bottom line. Plus, something just wasn't sitting right with him. I knew darn well what they wanted for the house.
I suggested his agent could run his own comps and offer a fair price. I would present anything that came across my desk and encourage my clients to see if it would work for them. Shane made a call and told the person on the other line he wanted to put an offer in on a house. He did not give the address or any particulars. Nor did he give my name and phone number to the agent. After his phone call, he smiled at me and said the offer would be in my in-box in an hour.
The whole thing made me sick, but I did not know why at the time. I was a mile away from their house when Inga called. Liam had just left (they are separated) and she was frantic. Shane had just threatened her with, "If you F'n think I am paying that much for this piece of S*** you have another thing coming, you whore." He apparently said a lot of other things and threw papers. He is a big man, well over 6 foot and about 250 pounds of solid muscle. Inga is about five feet, in her sixties and also in a wheelchair.
He didn't hurt her, but I said, "GET OUT OF THERE."
With the help of the Phoenix police Inga did. She went to a hotel Saturday night. The police did nothing but Shane told her that calling the police on him was a "bad idea."
Jane tells me I need to stop being a drama magnet. I don't feel like I am sucked into this drama, other than the blog fodder it presents and to show compassion for another human being. That is, I don't feel like I have to (or even have the ability to) save her from the series of bad choices she has made up to this point which has brought out this ugly situation.
Shane is a felon who got out of prison in August. He served time on and off (mostly on) since 1996 for fraud and other types of ugly things. I have told Inga several times he is not buying the house. He was never buying the house. In fact, I even pulled up the tax records and looked up the address on the papers he handed me. Shane does not own any real estate. Not at the address he gave me on the hodge-podge of papers, not anywhere in the state of Arizona.
There is so much more to this ugliness. There is no lease where Shane is living. Shane forged one. The police went to Inga's home twice on Sunday. Shane called them, saying he owned the house and Inga wouldn't leave. Officer Friendly said he was going to arrest Inga for trespassing and that's why I got sucked into that phone call. I sent over the tax records to show him. However, he did nothing to Shane. That was the second call. The first call was from me, because Inga sent me the secret code we now have saying she was in danger. The police did nothing then either.
Inga tells me she feels like she is losing her mind. Gas-lighters, flim-flam artist, and master manipulators do these kinds of things. They make their prey think they are right, the prey is wrong. Shane has told Inga he will leave if she gives him money. I told her call his parole officer. She is afraid to stir anything up.
Apparently Inga tells me Shane has threatened me as well, and even used the phrase, "going after her." I am not frightened, just more annoyed. I don't need to ride someone else's karma.
Meanwhile, I live 50 miles away and have asked her to text me a few times a day, making sure she is fine. She has a call into three attorneys (today is Monday) and I have suggested she leave the home tonight and not go back until she sees one of these lawyers.
On a side note, I have had a beautiful chat with Polly about the dangers of making decisions--and how those decisions tend to spiral--when one is angry, anxious or scared.
*Thomas and Encanto don't intersect
Unlocking Karma
My Saturday was so disturbing that I am still somewhat aghast people like this exist. And worse, there are those who aren't emotionally strong enough that they will allow these kinds of abusers to thrive.
Saturday morning my home inspector called to tell me he couldn't get into the house my buyer needed an inspection on, because the keys were missing. I called the agent, who proceeded to say "Not my problem." In fact, he said it was my problem because my buyer was doing a (contractually agreed upon) inspection.
Let me get this straight: A home you are responsible for, and your seller is entrusting you with, does not have keys? THIS IS YOUR PROBLEM. The agent suggested he didn't know where the keys were. Because he was out of town, I offered to swing by the owner's home and pick up a spare.
No. That won't work. (I don't know why).
He then said it was the appraiser's fault because the appraiser was at the house earlier in the week and didn't put back the keys. "Well call the appraiser," I stupidly said.
He said he didn't have the appraiser's number. He said it would be a "waste of time." He said he gets "too many phone calls" and how would he know which number it is anyway?
"What kind of agent doesn't take notes?" I may have said. Marty said it was a snotty remark. Whatever. I had a home inspector who was standing outside in a questionable neighborhood and couldn't do what was contractually obligated. I also had an agent who was out of solutions and too bad because--and I am not making this up--it was all MY fault.
Finally, after he found out I would not be pushed around (nor would I hire my own locksmith) he agreed to call the locksmith.
My home inspector tells me the locksmith had the agent on speakerphone when he arrived. The agent was telling him, "Yea, I have the key, I just went out of town." That is a far cry from the gas-lighting I had received an hour earlier, and when I found out, I was none too happy.
But as we all know, nothing in life happens without purpose. The locksmith (on speaker phone for my home inspector to hear) told agent for the honor of him stopping what he was doing on a Saturday morning and rushing over to a scary part of town, it would be $250. My home inspector said it then got interesting.
When the agent pointed out that HIS locksmith charges only $50 for this service, the locksmith replied with, "Yea, I don't see your locksmith. But give him a call. I have better things to do. I am leaving."
At which point, the agent had to hire him back. For $300.
I graciously took the receipt and sent it to the agent. For his records, of course.
Saturday morning my home inspector called to tell me he couldn't get into the house my buyer needed an inspection on, because the keys were missing. I called the agent, who proceeded to say "Not my problem." In fact, he said it was my problem because my buyer was doing a (contractually agreed upon) inspection.
Let me get this straight: A home you are responsible for, and your seller is entrusting you with, does not have keys? THIS IS YOUR PROBLEM. The agent suggested he didn't know where the keys were. Because he was out of town, I offered to swing by the owner's home and pick up a spare.
No. That won't work. (I don't know why).
He then said it was the appraiser's fault because the appraiser was at the house earlier in the week and didn't put back the keys. "Well call the appraiser," I stupidly said.
He said he didn't have the appraiser's number. He said it would be a "waste of time." He said he gets "too many phone calls" and how would he know which number it is anyway?
"What kind of agent doesn't take notes?" I may have said. Marty said it was a snotty remark. Whatever. I had a home inspector who was standing outside in a questionable neighborhood and couldn't do what was contractually obligated. I also had an agent who was out of solutions and too bad because--and I am not making this up--it was all MY fault.
Finally, after he found out I would not be pushed around (nor would I hire my own locksmith) he agreed to call the locksmith.
My home inspector tells me the locksmith had the agent on speakerphone when he arrived. The agent was telling him, "Yea, I have the key, I just went out of town." That is a far cry from the gas-lighting I had received an hour earlier, and when I found out, I was none too happy.
But as we all know, nothing in life happens without purpose. The locksmith (on speaker phone for my home inspector to hear) told agent for the honor of him stopping what he was doing on a Saturday morning and rushing over to a scary part of town, it would be $250. My home inspector said it then got interesting.
When the agent pointed out that HIS locksmith charges only $50 for this service, the locksmith replied with, "Yea, I don't see your locksmith. But give him a call. I have better things to do. I am leaving."
At which point, the agent had to hire him back. For $300.
I graciously took the receipt and sent it to the agent. For his records, of course.
Saturday, February 16, 2019
Agent Fighting
I am having significant trouble with Ari's home sale. Ari is one of Dee's felons. His mother is a pain and some day I am going to hunt her down and give her my best "bless your heart." Then I am going to go see Bliz (who lives in the same state as Mama Bear) and drink copious amounts of wine. But, that's for another day.
Right now, Mama Bear is managed. I won't talk with her. But the agent on the other end of the sale is a different matter all together.
This agent is sloppy and his work scares me. I have caught him in multiple lies and he has sent me paperwork for old sales instead of the one we have in escrow. Yesterday, I called his broker--which is one of the big no-no's in the business. It is like breaking a rule back in 6th grade, bypassing the principal and going straight to the Superintendent's office.
In fact, prior to calling the broker, I called El Jefe and asked the best way to handle the situation. After giving me loads of grief ("What? You don't have all the answers? You're a broker, figure it out...") he gave me some solid advice. The agent isn't happy with me, nor has he done what I asked him to do (and what the contract says he is to do), but my client is protected.
There was also an event this morning, and after three minutes of this guy playing the victim, Marty says I got "snotty." Maybe I did. But dang! A bit of professionalism goes a long way.
Later today I am sending a notice to his broker to escalate yesterday's situation. It is like being called into the US Department of Education's office for the 6th grade rule break. It won't be received well, but I would be surprised if the agent wasn't expecting it.
Right now, Mama Bear is managed. I won't talk with her. But the agent on the other end of the sale is a different matter all together.
This agent is sloppy and his work scares me. I have caught him in multiple lies and he has sent me paperwork for old sales instead of the one we have in escrow. Yesterday, I called his broker--which is one of the big no-no's in the business. It is like breaking a rule back in 6th grade, bypassing the principal and going straight to the Superintendent's office.
In fact, prior to calling the broker, I called El Jefe and asked the best way to handle the situation. After giving me loads of grief ("What? You don't have all the answers? You're a broker, figure it out...") he gave me some solid advice. The agent isn't happy with me, nor has he done what I asked him to do (and what the contract says he is to do), but my client is protected.
There was also an event this morning, and after three minutes of this guy playing the victim, Marty says I got "snotty." Maybe I did. But dang! A bit of professionalism goes a long way.
Later today I am sending a notice to his broker to escalate yesterday's situation. It is like being called into the US Department of Education's office for the 6th grade rule break. It won't be received well, but I would be surprised if the agent wasn't expecting it.
Friday, February 15, 2019
More Adventures
This week has been filled with Random Adventures.
Mama Bear has been officially blocked in my phone and e-mail. So far, my client hasn't mentioned anything about her. However, the loan officer and I commiserated about her micro-managing techniques from 1,700 miles away. He is now blocking her number too. Some people aren't as important as they think they are.
We are planning a trip to a remote island in the Gulf. I am excited. This will probably be our last big family vacation because my kids are insisting on growing up.
Sometime in the next week or so, El Jefe wants to have lunch. He said, "just to catch up." Too bad he wasn't that interested in what was going on in my life when I worked with him.
Just in case it matters: If you are representing a buyer, it is best not to drop your buyers off at a home for sale, instruct the teenage child who lives there (and is related to the seller) to "show the house" for you, and then take off, abandoning your clients.
Mama Bear has been officially blocked in my phone and e-mail. So far, my client hasn't mentioned anything about her. However, the loan officer and I commiserated about her micro-managing techniques from 1,700 miles away. He is now blocking her number too. Some people aren't as important as they think they are.
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We are planning a trip to a remote island in the Gulf. I am excited. This will probably be our last big family vacation because my kids are insisting on growing up.
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My fishing expedition--sending comps to past clients--is paying off. I am hearing from folks who are interested in selling in the near future. Hopefully.
Thursday, February 14, 2019
Texvirginia
This past week, El Jefe called me, encouraging me to attend my local association's (very bad) chicken lunch, where we would be sold a bill of goods to vote on. At the time, El Jefe said he was luke warm on the the idea of two local realtor associations merging into one. I didn't have an opinion one way or another, but there is a vote coming up and I might want to think about which side I was on.
Here's the gist: two realtor associations in the Phoenix metro area are thinking about merging. Except their members (us agents) are not in geographical proximity. One association is on the other side of town and much smaller than my association. Both associations are financially viable. However, there doesn't seem to be a real reason to merge. If these two associations merge, the seats each have on the Arizona Association of Realtors (for representation purposes) will no longer be four but instead, there will be two seats. I am told there are some really great perks, but I don't know what they are--even though I sat through two hours of this sunshine presentation and reviewed the four-color brochure someone put together.
If you will, think of it as analogous to Texas and West Virginia opting to merge into one new state. All the land in between is just irrelevant as far as these two states are concerned. The panel in front of us today, was selling us the reason why this is a good idea. We are being told Texvirginia will have more respect among the other states. We are told we will get more positive press. We will be able to attract more goodies, such as public speakers to Texvirgina, because we will be one of the largest states out there. Mind you, Texas is one of the largest states already--just like my realtor association is in the top ten in the nation.
As a Texan, I really didn't see a viable reason to make this happen. West Virginia is way over to the North East and whatever happens in a merger will be more of an impact on them, because they are smaller and they are being assimilated. Except, the entire concept makes no sense, no matter how many Texan and West Virginia mayors are standing in front of me, smiling, and saying "Isn't this great?!"
There were about 30 of us in the room, but nobody seemed as keen on the idea of the merger as the folks who stood in front of us with plastered smiles. And come on! If you are going to sell something to sales people and provide them with a crappy lunch, at least make reasons for a merger sound convincing.
Most of the questions from the brokers came with a performance. After a few minutes of dancing, the West Virginia governor said that my dues will go down about $20 when he was asked, twice. Wasn't that great?! And after I called him out for not answering the question I had asked while he juggled a few mundane facts, the clown from Texas said that the Senate will still only get two votes in Congress and the House of Representatives count will have to be negotiated. So basically, Texas and West Virginia will both be losing representation.
On March 15 the members of two local realtor associations will vote to see if the members want to merge. In order to vote, one has to be present at precisely 1 p.m. When asked (not by me) why we couldn't just vote online, the President of Texas said, "that's not how it is done," which I pointed out that is exactly how local association elections are done and that is why he is President.
It seems to me this merger is a foregone conclusion and today's lunch was just a formality. As a Texan, it probably won't affect me too much. But I am feeling sorry for the West Virginians. And after this merge, I am sure a merger with Kentucky and Maryland won't be far behind.
Here's the gist: two realtor associations in the Phoenix metro area are thinking about merging. Except their members (us agents) are not in geographical proximity. One association is on the other side of town and much smaller than my association. Both associations are financially viable. However, there doesn't seem to be a real reason to merge. If these two associations merge, the seats each have on the Arizona Association of Realtors (for representation purposes) will no longer be four but instead, there will be two seats. I am told there are some really great perks, but I don't know what they are--even though I sat through two hours of this sunshine presentation and reviewed the four-color brochure someone put together.
If you will, think of it as analogous to Texas and West Virginia opting to merge into one new state. All the land in between is just irrelevant as far as these two states are concerned. The panel in front of us today, was selling us the reason why this is a good idea. We are being told Texvirginia will have more respect among the other states. We are told we will get more positive press. We will be able to attract more goodies, such as public speakers to Texvirgina, because we will be one of the largest states out there. Mind you, Texas is one of the largest states already--just like my realtor association is in the top ten in the nation.
As a Texan, I really didn't see a viable reason to make this happen. West Virginia is way over to the North East and whatever happens in a merger will be more of an impact on them, because they are smaller and they are being assimilated. Except, the entire concept makes no sense, no matter how many Texan and West Virginia mayors are standing in front of me, smiling, and saying "Isn't this great?!"
There were about 30 of us in the room, but nobody seemed as keen on the idea of the merger as the folks who stood in front of us with plastered smiles. And come on! If you are going to sell something to sales people and provide them with a crappy lunch, at least make reasons for a merger sound convincing.
Most of the questions from the brokers came with a performance. After a few minutes of dancing, the West Virginia governor said that my dues will go down about $20 when he was asked, twice. Wasn't that great?! And after I called him out for not answering the question I had asked while he juggled a few mundane facts, the clown from Texas said that the Senate will still only get two votes in Congress and the House of Representatives count will have to be negotiated. So basically, Texas and West Virginia will both be losing representation.
On March 15 the members of two local realtor associations will vote to see if the members want to merge. In order to vote, one has to be present at precisely 1 p.m. When asked (not by me) why we couldn't just vote online, the President of Texas said, "that's not how it is done," which I pointed out that is exactly how local association elections are done and that is why he is President.
It seems to me this merger is a foregone conclusion and today's lunch was just a formality. As a Texan, it probably won't affect me too much. But I am feeling sorry for the West Virginians. And after this merge, I am sure a merger with Kentucky and Maryland won't be far behind.
Monday, February 11, 2019
I Hear the Menu is Chicken and Tiramisu
One of the interesting aspects of becoming a designated broker is that, whether I want to be or not, I am involved in Arizona real estate politics. Up until today, I had managed to successfully swerve this particular byproduct of my decision to be a one man show. However, El Jefe caught up to me.
"Are you going to the broker luncheon?" he innocently asked when he called today. Of course, El Jefe doesn't ever randomly call. So, I knew something was up.
No, I wasn't planning on attending. But after El Jefe's take on the situation, I am now. Apparently there is a real estate-thingy going on and everyone who is anyone in one of the two affected real estate associations needs to have an opinion. The luncheon is to let the brokers have first-crack at the politics inside of it. There will also be other meetings for general agents to attend, but those meetings won't come with lunch.
From what I can tell this particular issue is mainly a power grab. I am not sure how I feel about the whole thing. Voting comes next month. So, between now and then I better form an opinion.
On a micro scale, this particular issue will not affect me too much. However, on a macro scale, yea, it can wreck a lot of havoc in Arizona real estate. So, it looks like I am attending this week's lunch.
"Are you going to the broker luncheon?" he innocently asked when he called today. Of course, El Jefe doesn't ever randomly call. So, I knew something was up.
No, I wasn't planning on attending. But after El Jefe's take on the situation, I am now. Apparently there is a real estate-thingy going on and everyone who is anyone in one of the two affected real estate associations needs to have an opinion. The luncheon is to let the brokers have first-crack at the politics inside of it. There will also be other meetings for general agents to attend, but those meetings won't come with lunch.
From what I can tell this particular issue is mainly a power grab. I am not sure how I feel about the whole thing. Voting comes next month. So, between now and then I better form an opinion.
On a micro scale, this particular issue will not affect me too much. However, on a macro scale, yea, it can wreck a lot of havoc in Arizona real estate. So, it looks like I am attending this week's lunch.
Saturday, February 9, 2019
A Letter to Mama Bear
Dear Mama Bear,
I love meeting parents who care so deeply about their children. As a society, it should be expected that all parents offer unconditional love to their offspring. And you, Suzie, have transcended this to an art form. However, I need to ask you to back off. There are many reasons. Please, allow me to list a few of them:
1. Your son is 53 years old. He is my client. You aren't. It is obvious he has some basic adulting skills. Let him bloom. I get it. I have a father who thinks I am still 11. But even he was wise enough to step back when I purchased real estate.
2. I recognize you were some higher-up mortgage badass at some random bank and took "retirement" (cough-cough) in 2006the way a lot of other mortgage people took retirement or found other careers when the housing market tanked and it turned out lending practices at the time were questionable. It isn't 2006. The only similarities between lending in 2006 and 2019 is the client gets money at the end. The entire process and the laws surrounding them are very different. You honestly don't know what you are talking about. And you need to stop telling your son you are the foremost expert on mortgages. And while we are on the subject, for the love of all that is holy, stop telling your son's loan officer you are the foremost expert.
3. I am not going to tell you the ins and outs of this transaction. I am not going to keep you updated. Why? YOU AREN'T MY CLIENT. And at this point, I am not sure I even like you. By the way, just like you, I too have done business in the South. It will freeze over in Phoenix on some random August before I address you as "Mrs."--the way you are demanding--while you call me by my first name. Bless your heart.
4. I would get a lot more done, and not have to duplicate my efforts--as this Thursday demonstrated--if you would just stop calling me. Did I mention you aren't my client? You don't even live in this state! You are three steps behind what is currently going on. If you truly love your son and want to help him get this home, stop giving him advice that was relevant in 1999. You are confusing the guy. He believes you and not those of us he has hired to work in his best interests.
5. Next time you contact me, telling me to stop what I am doing immediately, drive across town and pick up some document or cashier's check for your son, I will block your number. Business is not done via carrier pigeons in this day and age. Other people who have jobs buy homes and get these things taken care of. I am his real estate agent, not his babysitter. We have couriers and electronic devices these days to handle this. Besides, real estate transactions are not conducted the same way here that they are in your state. What you asked me to do has nothing to do with my part of the sale and would have put me in legal danger. Mind your own damn business.
6. I will not give him tax advice. I will not advise him how to take title. I will not tell you if the property should be put into a trust. I will advise you both to talk with people who have more knowledge in this realm than I do. Stop asking me questions outside the scope of my license. You are just doing it on purpose on this point. We both know it.
7. Which brings me to this point, if you feel so strongly your son's property should be put under your umbrella policy, in the words of Jean-Luc Picard, "Make it so." Or, here's an idea, your son is old enough to have his own umbrella policy. Frankly, all adults should have one. They cost about $400. Pay for his as a house-warming gift. And please, don't use five-syllable words to describe to me what an umbrella policy is. The concept isn't that complicated, even if you use big words. Guess what?! I have had one for 16 years. Your son can get one if he so chooses (or if you choose for him).
I need to point out, we are only two days into your son's sale. I am already sick of you. Please leave me alone. Leave the loan officer alone. Do not call the title officer or I will personally fly to your state and find a way to make your life miserable. And I kindly ask, stop advising your son on things that aren't relevant. It confuses him. It confuses me.
We are all on the same side. We want what is best for your son. Please take a breather. Your son has got this. And if all goes well, he will even have a guest room for you when you decide you need to come visit to reoranize his sock drawer.
Sincerely,
Me.
I love meeting parents who care so deeply about their children. As a society, it should be expected that all parents offer unconditional love to their offspring. And you, Suzie, have transcended this to an art form. However, I need to ask you to back off. There are many reasons. Please, allow me to list a few of them:
1. Your son is 53 years old. He is my client. You aren't. It is obvious he has some basic adulting skills. Let him bloom. I get it. I have a father who thinks I am still 11. But even he was wise enough to step back when I purchased real estate.
2. I recognize you were some higher-up mortgage badass at some random bank and took "retirement" (cough-cough) in 2006
3. I am not going to tell you the ins and outs of this transaction. I am not going to keep you updated. Why? YOU AREN'T MY CLIENT. And at this point, I am not sure I even like you. By the way, just like you, I too have done business in the South. It will freeze over in Phoenix on some random August before I address you as "Mrs."--the way you are demanding--while you call me by my first name. Bless your heart.
4. I would get a lot more done, and not have to duplicate my efforts--as this Thursday demonstrated--if you would just stop calling me. Did I mention you aren't my client? You don't even live in this state! You are three steps behind what is currently going on. If you truly love your son and want to help him get this home, stop giving him advice that was relevant in 1999. You are confusing the guy. He believes you and not those of us he has hired to work in his best interests.
5. Next time you contact me, telling me to stop what I am doing immediately, drive across town and pick up some document or cashier's check for your son, I will block your number. Business is not done via carrier pigeons in this day and age. Other people who have jobs buy homes and get these things taken care of. I am his real estate agent, not his babysitter. We have couriers and electronic devices these days to handle this. Besides, real estate transactions are not conducted the same way here that they are in your state. What you asked me to do has nothing to do with my part of the sale and would have put me in legal danger. Mind your own damn business.
6. I will not give him tax advice. I will not advise him how to take title. I will not tell you if the property should be put into a trust. I will advise you both to talk with people who have more knowledge in this realm than I do. Stop asking me questions outside the scope of my license. You are just doing it on purpose on this point. We both know it.
7. Which brings me to this point, if you feel so strongly your son's property should be put under your umbrella policy, in the words of Jean-Luc Picard, "Make it so." Or, here's an idea, your son is old enough to have his own umbrella policy. Frankly, all adults should have one. They cost about $400. Pay for his as a house-warming gift. And please, don't use five-syllable words to describe to me what an umbrella policy is. The concept isn't that complicated, even if you use big words. Guess what?! I have had one for 16 years. Your son can get one if he so chooses (or if you choose for him).
I need to point out, we are only two days into your son's sale. I am already sick of you. Please leave me alone. Leave the loan officer alone. Do not call the title officer or I will personally fly to your state and find a way to make your life miserable. And I kindly ask, stop advising your son on things that aren't relevant. It confuses him. It confuses me.
We are all on the same side. We want what is best for your son. Please take a breather. Your son has got this. And if all goes well, he will even have a guest room for you when you decide you need to come visit to reoranize his sock drawer.
Sincerely,
Me.
Friday, February 8, 2019
Random Adventures The Yes and No Edition
What a random real estate week this has been.
No Voice Mail: A friend, who lives in DC has been getting phone calls for a rental she does not own, nor is in any way affiliated with, here in Arizona. The phone number in the ad is simply incorrect. With a bit of detective work, I found the last agent who handled this property. He no longer does, but he knows the owner. So hopefully a message will get back to whomever telling them to fix the phone number. Incidentally, this agent does not have voice mail. Yes, there is a real estate agent out there who does not have voice mail. I am still processing that.
Yes I Do: This past week I showed a property in a questionable neighborhood. I was waiting in the car, and sent Marty the following text: "I am here in this scary neighborhood waiting for my felon." Marty's reply was, "You need another occupation."
Yes It Would: Some great folks I know are thinking about moving this summer. They are on my top-five list of favorite all-time clients. When the husband called me this week he had one question: would it be ok to paint the kitchen white?
_______________________
No Voice Mail: A friend, who lives in DC has been getting phone calls for a rental she does not own, nor is in any way affiliated with, here in Arizona. The phone number in the ad is simply incorrect. With a bit of detective work, I found the last agent who handled this property. He no longer does, but he knows the owner. So hopefully a message will get back to whomever telling them to fix the phone number. Incidentally, this agent does not have voice mail. Yes, there is a real estate agent out there who does not have voice mail. I am still processing that.
_______________________
Yes I Do: This past week I showed a property in a questionable neighborhood. I was waiting in the car, and sent Marty the following text: "I am here in this scary neighborhood waiting for my felon." Marty's reply was, "You need another occupation."
_______________________
Yes It Would: Some great folks I know are thinking about moving this summer. They are on my top-five list of favorite all-time clients. When the husband called me this week he had one question: would it be ok to paint the kitchen white?
Wednesday, February 6, 2019
Fighting Words
I am working with an agent who has had his property in escrow twice. I have asked him for the past couple of days for a specific piece of paper--one that the seller provides to buyers. However, he hasn't been forthcoming. I cannot write an offer unless I have this dang paper. My best guess is there is another buyer this agent represents and is waiting for his buyer so he can tell me "too late." But I have no proof.
The property my buyer is looking at isn't exactly in the best of neighborhoods. There are a few odd quirks that come along with this house, including, but not limited to, the homeless encampment right next door (not good for property values and it might be why the number of break-ins in the area are so high), the lack of maintenance in the subdivision and a plethora of other tid-bits that hurt my brain to think of. The actual interior is clean, taken care of and in my buyer's price range. In fact, I would be willing to bet there is a lot of interest in this place because it is kind of cute inside and priced well. However, my feelings will not be hurt in the slightest if my client moves on.
The agent has given me every excuse in the book as to why he can't be bothered to provide me this addendum. He told me he is "busy." He has been an agent for "ten years." He has "other clients." Whatever. He also has a filing cabinet with a three page seller-provided addendum in it that he needs to give me so I can write a contract.
When I asked super-nicely yesterday he suggested I could justwrite forge this addendum myself. I could. But everything stems back to me having a license and kids with grocery addictions. I guess he doesn't have kids with grocery addictions because I can't see any other reason why he would suggest such a ridiculous course of action.
We aren't even under contract yet and I am ready to pound my head into the wall with this guy. However, I had to break out the fighting words today, knowing this would make matters worse down the line. I said this morning: "Perhaps if you are too busy, your broker could provide me with a copy of this." Even though one should sparingly use the broker card, it is necessary. The agent doesn't want the phone call to his broker saying he is potentially committing a breach of ethics/etiquette/professionalism that could cause the broker to pay out a lot of money to a wronged party. And that is precisely the underlying message if I make that call.
Currently, this dude has told me I will have the addendum today. I am giving him until 3 p.m. and then making the call--one designated broker to another.
The property my buyer is looking at isn't exactly in the best of neighborhoods. There are a few odd quirks that come along with this house, including, but not limited to, the homeless encampment right next door (not good for property values and it might be why the number of break-ins in the area are so high), the lack of maintenance in the subdivision and a plethora of other tid-bits that hurt my brain to think of. The actual interior is clean, taken care of and in my buyer's price range. In fact, I would be willing to bet there is a lot of interest in this place because it is kind of cute inside and priced well. However, my feelings will not be hurt in the slightest if my client moves on.
The agent has given me every excuse in the book as to why he can't be bothered to provide me this addendum. He told me he is "busy." He has been an agent for "ten years." He has "other clients." Whatever. He also has a filing cabinet with a three page seller-provided addendum in it that he needs to give me so I can write a contract.
When I asked super-nicely yesterday he suggested I could just
We aren't even under contract yet and I am ready to pound my head into the wall with this guy. However, I had to break out the fighting words today, knowing this would make matters worse down the line. I said this morning: "Perhaps if you are too busy, your broker could provide me with a copy of this." Even though one should sparingly use the broker card, it is necessary. The agent doesn't want the phone call to his broker saying he is potentially committing a breach of ethics/etiquette/professionalism that could cause the broker to pay out a lot of money to a wronged party. And that is precisely the underlying message if I make that call.
Currently, this dude has told me I will have the addendum today. I am giving him until 3 p.m. and then making the call--one designated broker to another.
Bad MLS Pictures
Le Sigh...
The two pictures above, while pretty, are from a $1,000,000 listing. Yes, that is what the home seller paid for. Pictures of plants with no discernible reason for such photos. Can buyers assume there are plants nearby? Personally, if I were a buyer, I would rather see the actual structure I am interested in buying. The second picture isn't even taken on the seller's property.
I showed this particular property this past week. Fortunately, the guy hiding in the doorway was not there when I showed the home. However, there was enough scariness in that particular neighborhood to make me wonder if he was hiding from the camera or from thugs.
Just a usual reflection shot one finds in bad MLS pictures. And let's pay a brief homage to the potty with the seat raised and the vanity door open. Quick story: Polly went to a party on Saturday. She filmed the guest of honor opening her gift. You can hear Polly in the background saying, "Oops, Bad MLS picture, you can see me in the window." Realtor kid.
And finally, yes, this was in the MLS. Some ultra-savvy agent wants us to know he can sell his client's home, even standing on his head. Apparently.
Tuesday, February 5, 2019
Corey and His Cousin, Rebuttal
I showed a home this past week. If my buyer is interested, I am going to have to do some serious digging to make sure my client is protected. In fact, he currently doesn't know there might be a problem. I don't plan on whining about how much work it will take to untangle this particular issue. All I plan on doing is getting it resolved and saying, "Nothing to worry about. Taken care of." Agents (and attorneys and others in this type of role) do a lot of that kind of thankless work.
There are many reasons why Corey's cousin may have gone a different direction. Maybe Corey wasn't doing his job? It might be Corey is just a bad agent and perpetual victim. And perhaps Corey is just whining. I recognize there are two sides to every story and perhaps it was Corey's misstep that caused this issue.
Or perhaps it wasn't. My best guess is that Corey didn't educate his buyers well enough to fully let them understand what he does behind the scenes. Agents don't just open the door to pretty homes and the rest suddenly falls into place. Often, we are untangling legal issues our client will never know about so the buyer can enjoy their home or the seller can sell their home. Frankly, educating the public is a full-time job for agents and there is a fine line between the whining of, "You would never believe how much work it took to make sure there is clear title on that house," to the end result of, "Here are your keys." Unfortunately, the general public has a perception that they don't need representation even when they do. If nothing else, that was Corey's big mistake.
There are many reasons why Corey's cousin may have gone a different direction. Maybe Corey wasn't doing his job? It might be Corey is just a bad agent and perpetual victim. And perhaps Corey is just whining. I recognize there are two sides to every story and perhaps it was Corey's misstep that caused this issue.
Or perhaps it wasn't. My best guess is that Corey didn't educate his buyers well enough to fully let them understand what he does behind the scenes. Agents don't just open the door to pretty homes and the rest suddenly falls into place. Often, we are untangling legal issues our client will never know about so the buyer can enjoy their home or the seller can sell their home. Frankly, educating the public is a full-time job for agents and there is a fine line between the whining of, "You would never believe how much work it took to make sure there is clear title on that house," to the end result of, "Here are your keys." Unfortunately, the general public has a perception that they don't need representation even when they do. If nothing else, that was Corey's big mistake.
Monday, February 4, 2019
Corey and His Cousin
Though Facebook makes me twitchy, I belong to a couple of real estate groups that I find useful. The one in the image above is a national group and I often find some of the ideas they share to be of value.
This agent posted this text he received from his cousin. My heart felt for him. The general public has a perception that real estate agents are snake oil sales folks. Some are. Most are hard working and have kids who are addicted to electricity and groceries. We work for a living. We just don't get paid until the home closes. This kind of thing above is disappointing. It is a risk we take, and work our buns off to make sure our clients (even ones who aren't family and friends) are happy so they don't send texts like this.
Frankly, family and friends are the roughest clients at times. There can be a strange dynamic where the client (friend/family) seems to think they are doing us a favor by hiring us. I have one family member who flat-out told me he will never hire me. Nothing personal. I have another family member who has given me a bunch of business.
I have had family/friend-clients I have fired--and others I wouldn't represent if they begged. Conversely, I have had family/friend clients who have worked out splendidly. I am at a place in my business now where I won't put up family and friends who treat me like they are doing me a favor. I hope Corey gets there soon. Working for free is not as satisfying as one would think when there are hungry children at home.
Last I checked, the agent had more than 500 replies. I also added my thoughts: Take the high road. It is boring, but his karma will thank him eventually.
Sunday, February 3, 2019
Fishing
Yesterday I held a home open. The property belongs to Mrs. Hufflepuff's brokerage, but she often allows me to sit them. It is a nice courtesy and I am grateful. Sometimes Jane hangs out (as she is a member of Mrs. Hufflepuff's brokerage, this makes the most sense). Sometimes she doesn't.
Because of security concerns, and let's face it, there are many, I don't like sitting vacant homes by myself. So, if Jane isn't available I look for another agent or loan officer who might have nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon. As a last resort, I bribe Buckaroo--who has grown up in the business--with copious favors if he will bring his tablet and find a corner to park in for a couple of hours.
For the most part, open houses are pretty old school. They are 1970's marketing--just like putting ads in magazines and newspapers. Buyers and nosy neighbors are offered the privilege of walking through someone else's home. Sellers like this because they feel like it gives their home exposure. And yes it does. Sometimes the wrong type.
Agents seem to have two schools of thought about open houses. First it makes sellers, who read too many Zillow stories about what agents are supposed to be doing, happy. "My agent is doing her job!" Second, it allows agents to fish for customers. Here's an industry secret: the goal isn't to sell the home they are sitting open. The goal is to find a neighbor who is thinking about selling. Or, conversely, it is to find that wayward soul who wants to buy but doesn't know the first step. There is some statistic bandied about somewhere that says generally a buyer goes with the first agent they find.
In general, agents like to hold open houses in vacant homes. That way the seller isn't going to walk in and demand a count of how many people came through. Or worse, the seller isn't going to walk in and start selling their own home to some prospective buyer and say something that may get himself into legal trouble. Also, it allows agents who don't work for certain brokerages (like me not working for Mrs. Hufflepuff's agency) to sit at a house. After all, if the seller has employed ABC Realty why is the agent from XYZ Agency sitting at their house? And even if one were to explain to the seller that the goal is to sell the house and why does it matter who sits it open? Selllers don't really understand. Besides all that, a vacant home isn't likely to have jewelry sitting on a night stand somewhere that a prospective buyer could just help themselves to.
I have sat homes where, afterwards, I have found a window unlocked. Someone who might have been tired of the Arizona heat decided they could spend the night right after we locked up. Those same folks came back a few days later and broke down the back door and got caught. I have sat homes where I have waited outside for "buyers" to go through because I wasn't getting a friendly vibe from them and I didn't want to be trapped in a home with trouble (which is why I now bring along someone else). In fact, this past open house, the neighbor across the street kept walking to the edge of his property and staring in at us. When Marty came by (he checks on me) he suggested it was time to leave. The guy was giving Marty the creeps too.
Open houses are often successful for agents. Most of the time, if I have notice, I send Buckaroo and a few friends around the day before to put flyers on the neighbor's homes inviting them by. That helps build traffic. I have sold one home to clients I took through an open house (and they have now bought and sold seven properties from me). I have gotten buyers who stepped in for a moment to an open house and let me help them later on. I have had neighbors stop by, who call me out of the blue six months later and say, "I want to sell my home." So, there is some benefit. But mostly an open house consists of sitting around waiting for the crazy neighbor to go back in his house while Jane and I surf the Internet.
Because of security concerns, and let's face it, there are many, I don't like sitting vacant homes by myself. So, if Jane isn't available I look for another agent or loan officer who might have nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon. As a last resort, I bribe Buckaroo--who has grown up in the business--with copious favors if he will bring his tablet and find a corner to park in for a couple of hours.
For the most part, open houses are pretty old school. They are 1970's marketing--just like putting ads in magazines and newspapers. Buyers and nosy neighbors are offered the privilege of walking through someone else's home. Sellers like this because they feel like it gives their home exposure. And yes it does. Sometimes the wrong type.
Agents seem to have two schools of thought about open houses. First it makes sellers, who read too many Zillow stories about what agents are supposed to be doing, happy. "My agent is doing her job!" Second, it allows agents to fish for customers. Here's an industry secret: the goal isn't to sell the home they are sitting open. The goal is to find a neighbor who is thinking about selling. Or, conversely, it is to find that wayward soul who wants to buy but doesn't know the first step. There is some statistic bandied about somewhere that says generally a buyer goes with the first agent they find.
In general, agents like to hold open houses in vacant homes. That way the seller isn't going to walk in and demand a count of how many people came through. Or worse, the seller isn't going to walk in and start selling their own home to some prospective buyer and say something that may get himself into legal trouble. Also, it allows agents who don't work for certain brokerages (like me not working for Mrs. Hufflepuff's agency) to sit at a house. After all, if the seller has employed ABC Realty why is the agent from XYZ Agency sitting at their house? And even if one were to explain to the seller that the goal is to sell the house and why does it matter who sits it open? Selllers don't really understand. Besides all that, a vacant home isn't likely to have jewelry sitting on a night stand somewhere that a prospective buyer could just help themselves to.
I have sat homes where, afterwards, I have found a window unlocked. Someone who might have been tired of the Arizona heat decided they could spend the night right after we locked up. Those same folks came back a few days later and broke down the back door and got caught. I have sat homes where I have waited outside for "buyers" to go through because I wasn't getting a friendly vibe from them and I didn't want to be trapped in a home with trouble (which is why I now bring along someone else). In fact, this past open house, the neighbor across the street kept walking to the edge of his property and staring in at us. When Marty came by (he checks on me) he suggested it was time to leave. The guy was giving Marty the creeps too.
Open houses are often successful for agents. Most of the time, if I have notice, I send Buckaroo and a few friends around the day before to put flyers on the neighbor's homes inviting them by. That helps build traffic. I have sold one home to clients I took through an open house (and they have now bought and sold seven properties from me). I have gotten buyers who stepped in for a moment to an open house and let me help them later on. I have had neighbors stop by, who call me out of the blue six months later and say, "I want to sell my home." So, there is some benefit. But mostly an open house consists of sitting around waiting for the crazy neighbor to go back in his house while Jane and I surf the Internet.
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