The other day I was out showing property and ran into an agent wearing a ten dollar hat on a nickel head.

I was having a problem showing this one listing.  Every so often you meet a lock that doesn’t work or a similar problem that prevents you from getting inside the house.  In this case there was a key for the deadbolt, but the doorknob lock was keyed differently, was locked, and there was no key to the doorknob lock.

So I called the agent, who I’ll call Tami Talksalot, and got a sort of voicemail Homeric epic that went something like:

“Thank you for calling the Tami Talksalot Team, your personal real estate consultant for life.  Since 95% of our business comes from referrals blah blah blah.  Please leave your name, phone number, and a detailed description of your problem so we can be fully prepared before calling you back.  If you were referred to us blah blah blah please leave the name of the person who referred you so we can call and punish them with this epic voicemail too blah blah blah.”

It looks a lot shorter in print.  I’m sure there was more to it, like what color shirt Tami Talksalot was wearing and something about providing my cat with outstanding customer service, but after a few minutes waiting to tell my personal real estate consultant for life that I couldn’t show her property because 95% of my business comes from people who could actually get inside the house they wanted to buy, I got pretty tired.

I got a call back twenty-four hours later after my buyers and I had long since left the area by an assistant on the Tami Talksalot team, Peggy-Sue Getaclue, who asked if I was able to get inside the house.

I missed an opportunity there.  I should have told her I was still listening to the voicemail announcement.

Live and learn.

I’m still waiting to hear back that the house can be shown.  But I’m not holding my breath.

blog comments powered by Disqus