Wrapping Up

I tell this story because it seems funny now to look back on.   But also, I hope it will shed perspective for new buyers, that not all realtors are created equal.   

In summary, I wouldn’t necessarily dismiss a new agent right out of the gate, if they have a business background, and are getting gold star advice from their team back in the office.   Unfortunately, that isn’t apparent at first blush.   I would strongly advise buyers to be vigilant about making sure that there are guardrails in place to make sure the decisions they are making throughout the transaction are well-considered, and that all options are clearly explained with regard to:  negotiations during the purchase, home inspection, and mortgage contingency so that they  feel confident  that they have made the best decisions for themselves and their family.

Finally, a closing.

And finally, we came to the closing day of the Berkeley Heights property.  Talia and Tony were handed the keys.   I was so happy for them!  They were so thrilled to have just purchased their first home!!!

I was relieved that I had one deal under my belt. I felt like I had learned as much as one human could possibly learn, and that the next transaction would be so much easier.   Unfortunately, it wasn’t.   

I learned quickly that each real estate transaction is pretty different from every other.   A realtor can get the basics of the contract under control, learn home mechanics, and a whole slew of new issues will rear their head.  The whole business, I discovered, was like whack-a-mole, where each time something was learned, something else cropped.  

I look back on this time in my career and I am both floored by how patient my clients were, and thoroughly embarrassed by what little I brought to the table aside from enthusiasm.

In Hot Water…(heater)

The house in Berkeley Heights was coincidentally listed by the very same realtor who had sold me my house in Summit, two years previously.   She was a very competent agent who had many years of experience.   I had hoped to be able to chit chat, “girl-talk” with her in the corner, but I soon learned that there was a strict protocol that listing agents and buyers agents were not encouraged to talk at length during the home inspection, because we were representing different sides of the transaction .   

However, toward the end of the home inspection we were all called down into the basement by the Home Inspector, a man with little personality,  for a summary.  

The home inspector spoke as if to no one in particular, “As you can see the hot water heater is leaking… ”

I feigned horror, and immediately went over to the big hulking machine in the middle of the basement, intent on checking things out myself.   

Putting my hands on my hips, I scoured the base of the equipment for several minutes, I called out, “Hello!”  

Everyone turned in my direction.   

 “I don’t see a drop of water anywhere over here.”   My glare directed at the mirthless Home Inspector, I inquired “Can you please tell me what you mean?”  

My clients looked at each other.  

The home inspector looked at his papers, and then gave the side eye to the listing agent .  

The listing agent (did I see an eye roll?)  announced haughtily, (I definitely saw an eye roll.) “Jane, that’s the furnace, not the hot water heater.”

I felt like someone else might have handled the situation differently….maybe spun around and said, “Of course!! Duh!!”  

But instead, I turned bright red and retreated to the corner of the basement, standing next to what I believed to be the washer and dryer….but at that point, I really couldn’t be sure of anything.

The Offer

I got in my car in a semi-dazed state, and immediately whipped out my Nokia phone to call Betty.  

 “My clients want to write an offer on the house in Berkeley Heights!!  Can you meet me at the office ASAP?” 

“Well, hello Jane.   Congratulations!   How terrific!   I can’t meet you at the office, but I am sure that after all the simulations we have gone through, you will be just fine.”

“What?” I thought feverishly.  “But this time there is a real, live client, who was not present during the simulations!!!!”  I hissed into the phone.  

As it turned out, I was able to find all the documents where Betty had organized them in little cubbies.   However, I was ready to cry as I  looked at each document —as if I had never laid eyes on it before.   

 In NJ, all contracts are prefaced by a mysteriously named, “Opinion 26.” I wracked my brain to try to remember its purpose, and reading the doc didn’t do much to help me.   Although I never was a huge sweat person, even during workouts at the gym, I discovered that my sweat glands were operating at optimal level, as my shirt began to feel damp.  The realization that I was responsible for guiding two trusting souls, sitting in the conference room right now,  in the purchase of their biggest asset made me exceedingly nervous.   

When nervous, I tend to frown excessively and my right eyebrow shoots up.   I sat down on the opposite side of the conference table from Talia and her husband, with the sheaf of documents that needed to be signed in front of me. I found solace as I looked at the “Offer for Purchase,” — especially the part where it asked for the Buyers names and their street address.  

When we got to the mortgage contingency, I meekly asked Talia if she had a pre-approval.    Answering in the affirmative, she passed the document across the table to me, and thankful for small favors, I gathered enough information to fill in the blanks.  

But then the home inspection clause.  “Why so many bloody words?” I thought.

I mentioned to my clients that they would want to do a home inspection, and left the amount of days blank.    Finally, we got to the signatures, and I made an executive decision to skip over the rest of the documents, and get my clients out of the office as quickly as possible.   

Of course the next day, everything looked better.   Betty talked me through the documents that Talia and Tony had signed.   She also explained that there were some missing pieces that they would need to sign before the offer could be submitted.   I arranged with Talia to drop off all the documents at her salon, and asked her to bring them home to Tony to sign and return the next day.

Looking back on all of this now, I am struck by how many days it took us to get this offer submitted.   That luxury of time just seems so quaint now.   Anyway, the offer was submitted and accepted in short order,  and then, I thought, I would be able to add real value and support to my clients during the home inspection.   Little did I know what lay ahead.

My Hairdresser Cuts to the chase

After attending what seemed like hundreds of open houses, I went to get my hair cut one day and happened upon my first client, my hairdresser, Talia*.   Talia  told me that she and her husband, Tony, were “sort of” looking for a house in Berkeley Heights, NJ.   I immediately recalled Betty telling me I needed to ask clients if they were working with an agent, and if so, to stay clear.   When asked if she had a realtor, Talia shrugged and said no.  So I proceeded to tell her about an adorable little brick ranch on 1/2 acre in Berkeley Heights,  that I had just seen that morning during caravan.   The price of $340,000 fit her budget and we agreed that I would show her the house. 

 I thought, “This is so easy!”   

On my way back to the office to print the MLS listing, and make the appointment,  I got a speeding ticket because I was so crazed with excitement.   

I had no real specific plan as to how to show a house.   So I channeled what I thought Judy A. would probably do in that situation. I tried not to look or sound as inexperienced as I felt, as I fidgeted with my lockbox key, and the front door lock, looking over my shoulder at Talia and Tony rearing to go.   And, finally I got the door opened. 

I flounced inside with my arms spread wide, “The hallway!”  I announced.  

After sensing that the couple preferred to be left alone, I let them go through the house at their own pace.   I remember looking out the front window at the massive oak tree, beginning to show the first signs of Spring, when Talia came up to me and said that they would take it. 

“Take what?” I asked. 

“The house.  We want it." she said matter of factly.

*Names changed to protect the innocent.

The very beginning

It was January, 1999 and my then-husband told me I should get my real estate license because I loved houses.  Now, twenty five years later, I realize how little the business of real estate has to do with the brick and mortar structures.   And  everything to do with people.  

 I joined a real estate agency in Summit, NJ which I chose because I loved the manager, Betty*,  who reminded me of the mom of one of my childhood friends.  Betty was kind and warm and had clearly been a grammar school teacher in a former life.   She prized education and hard work above all else.    I would like to say that I went into the business as a seasoned businesswoman, but really I was just a young mother who had little business experience.   My major in college had been Spanish Languages and Literature, which proved highly unhelpful in the business arena.  

Every week on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, the big event was called “Caravan.” I would head into the office excited to review  the open house list, which had been printed for each of the agents.   Driving to open houses as a back seat passenger of Judy A’s sleek black luxury sedan, I had zero knowledge of the things the “front seaters” spoke of, namely, pricing, clients, inventory, location, etc.   but I loved soaking it all up.

Each of us agents had a coverage area of 5-9 towns, and there were usually 5 or 6 open houses in each town, so it was a whirlwind to try to view 25-30 houses within 3 hours.   Caravan is something that is long gone in the industry.   Agents in general are not previewing homes for their clients, possibly because tech has become so good that it veritably replaces the first showing of a property.    But back then, it was everything.    Because I had no buyers to work with, I would “caravan” to learn what the seasoned front seaters would say about each house…..”That was priced well!” … “Did you see that painting in the living room?”  … “That backyard could hold a football team.” … “No garage for $1M! They will never get that!” 

I began very slowly to understand the nuances of pricing between the various towns, and why one three bedroom house was listed for $500,000, while another at $1.5M.    I would hear other agents talk about their buyers and their sellers and I found myself daydreaming about the day that I would actually have a real live client of my own to work with.  

*Names changed to protect the innocent.