In 1974, I was a mother/housewife and bored! Both of my two kids were in school full-time until one day my husband suggested I look into real estate. I laughed until I took a good look at the current crop of Agents mucking around as professionals.
I signed up for Real Estate class, and that is the beginning of my funny career. It was a little unnerving when pop quizzes were graded, and we found that some answers were wrong according to our book, and some of the books were also wrong. On test day, we were herded into a classroom-like room and allowed only a pencil or pen and one blank sheet of paper. No calculator, books, or magazines were allowed; bathroom breaks were permitted with permission, and no purses could be taken with us. When we were done, we went home and WAITED for a week or more for that fateful postcard with an X to tell us we passed or failed.
This is a warm-and-fuzzy fact! I was in the group that was granted a Temporary Real Estate Permit and allowed to work in the profession until I passed the Real Estate test. I did pass and worked in the Real Estate profession for close to 30 years. Some of my fellow realtors’ antics shouldn’t have been funny, but they were!
My first day in Real Estate (remember, it was sans license) was so interesting that I can’t help but smile, remembering how thrilled I was to be “hired” by my first of many Brokers!
Arriving at the office on my first day, I was greeted by my fellow Agents, all of whom were male, with this statement! “Well, welcome, Little Lady. We are so happy to have a woman to cook us lunch.
Would you be surprised to see a Salmon fillet waiting on the counter in the break room?
They went Hungry that day and every day after!
The best words of wisdom my broker gave me were, “Take a different route to work every day, and when you see a FISBO (for sale by owner), stop and ask them to list with you.” Sammy, my broker, was a short, stocky guy with thinning hair, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. When I asked, “What do I put in all those blanks on the contracts?” He said, “When you get a sale or a listing, just look in the files and copy what the other guys did. Not the greatest training.
My first FISBO was interesting! I saw his for-sale sign, immediately braked to a stop. I walked up to the door. I said something like, “Hi, I saw your for-sale sign, and I am a Realtor with Smith & Smith Realty and would like to list your property for sale.”
He screamed at me for at least half an hour about how much he hated Smith &Smith Realty and basically all RE Agents! I stood there with my mouth open just listening. After he ran out of breath, he said, “Oh, hell, come on in, and we will talk!”
Amazingly, he agreed to list! Help! I had no idea how to fill out that damn form! All those contracts that I was supposed to copy were back at the office.
Between a guy from the city who was there to get approval to widen the road, the lister, and me, we filled out the listing agreement.
I grabbed the listing agreement and beat a fast trip to the office to have “Sammy,” my broker, check it out before I let the seller sign it. Sammy looked at it and screamed. “Get your ass back out there and get the signature!” With those words of wisdom swimming in my head, I did, and later I learned that most sellers and agents negotiate the percentage, and I got a full 7%.
The guys didn’t like me any more than I liked them, and after they pulled every dirty trick they knew on me, I finally got revenge. That story is for tomorrow, and it is a beauty. If I forget, please remind me, because it is a beauty!
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