The good old days were actually very good. For much of them, we didn’t have the threat of war hanging over our heads, and at least we were able to ignore much of what was going on everywhere else except in our own back yards.
In the 70s and the 80s, life was good. I felt like I was on top of the world. I had learned the basics of Real Estate and felt like I was on my way to success.
I was working at a small company in Montesano, Washington, with only 3 of us, all Women in the office, including our Broker. I will name her Sally because everyone except me will remain nameless. We laughed a lot most days, and I choose to remember the fun times! Once, the younger gals thought it would be fun to keep a chart of our sales and listings. I cautioned them if might not be fun if your name wasn’t on it a lot. They said I needed to be a good sport, so I said okay.
When, by the third week, my name appeared on the chart the most, it was quietly put away. You see, for me, it was my only job, and I worked hard to make a living, not for rewards.
They spent much of their time crocheting and sometimes bringing their kids in because sitters were expensive. After weeks of my client tripping over strollers and playpens, I had a private talk with the Broker, “The babysitting goes or I go, take your choice. This is a business!”
The business was sometimes hysterically funny and sometimes dead serious. Many times, we took Earnest Money in cash, and it was a big No-No to ever co-commingle it with our own money. I would open the office, go to the Broker’s office, pick a closed file, put the cash in it, and write the file name on her calendar. The next day, she could retrieve the money.
One other thing, she could never pass the Broker’s exam. An office HAD to have a Broker! Sally had a rent-a-broker! An older retired guy who needed a little help. He had a nice, big desk, and his only responsibility was to walk to the Post Office and pick up the mail. One of us had to walk behind him and pick up the envelopes he dropped.
We had a new gal who came to work after leaving another office, could never remember our office’s name, and after weeks of messing it up, we put a big sign on her desk so she could remember it. She also had a big, ugly plant beside her desk, and I hated it. I poured my cold coffee on it every day, hoping to kill it, but it turned out the dang thing loved it and grew by leaps and bounds.
Sally announced at our meeting that she had a cabin on the lake that she wanted to (get rid of) sell! She would pay the full selling commission (7%) if we sold it. All she gave us were pictures, and it was unlocked. It needed a lot of work, but the lake was popular.
That night, I was on call (I got all walk-ins or new calls). A sexy young man in overalls and no shirt walked in, and after chatting for a few minutes, he said he wanted a cabin on a good fishing lake and just to get away.
The gal that sat next to me was looking like she wanted to jump his bones right there in the office, but remained cool!
I told him about the Broker’s cabin, and he was hot to go look at it that night. I was about 8, and I had no intention of taking him there because I wasn’t even sure it had electricity.
I asked him, “John, are you a gambling man?” He grinned and said. “Yes, why?” We will write a contract on it, subject to your inspection. If you want it, come back in tomorrow morning and finalize the contract or pass. All I need is Earnest Money. How much cash do you have?
He said,” $1000, is that enough?” I wrote the contract, told him he could go out there, and gave him the address, and that he could go inside since it was unlocked. He happily left, and the next day I learned I sold her cabin without ever seeing it.
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