Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Lookers But No Takers

Before you think this is an anti-tourist rant, it's not. It's tourists, not just us townspeople, who make Kanner Lake an awesome place to live. But I had one of those days recently--full of lookers but no takers.

It started like this:

Our female tourist in a show-me-everything-in-your-listings mood squealed as she entered the office. The squeal should have tipped me off. The other agent disappeared into the break room "to take a call," she told me in a stage whisper.

Female tourist, or FT, stopped at my desk. Her hat flopped on her head like a dying bird as she gushed: "Oh, I just love Kanner Lake. Such darling shops, away from the bustle of urban life. If I can get a place here, maybe the doctor will take me off my blood pressure pills. You simply must show me some properties. The sweet woman at the coffee shop said I should come here."

So off we went in my car to the first of several listings. With what's happened lately in Kanner Lake, I wanted to kiss the woman's feet. That, and give Bailey a hug for sending me a potential customer.

We got to the first house.

FT: "I don't like this tile in the kitchen. And those boring rustic beams in the great room need painting. Or pickling, at least. They look positively looming and oppressive. But my Henry would break his neck trying to paint those rafters."

My mental response: If you're well enough off to buy this place, your Henry could hire someone to paint it for you.

My audible response: "Kanner Lake has several wonderful contractors who do excellent work, even minor touchups like painting." I thought of offering Wilbur paint services, but he might run her off. His showing off the scar thing is getting pretty old. Maybe if I bought him coffee for a week, he'd give up that annoying fetish. Long enough for me to close the deal, anyway.

FT ignored my suggestion and headed back to the kitchen with its deplorable tile and continued: "Is that a convection oven over the range? How clean is the inside? I'd hate to replace that a month after moving in."

The last straw and final pain was when I broke a fingernail down to the quick as I opened the oven door too fast. When we women say, Ow, I broke a nail, sometimes it really hurts. This one did.

Next house--more complaints on her part. Same with the third house, and the fourth. In fact, her complaints only got worse.

Sometimes it's hard to keep smiling.

Result after an entire afternoon spent with this women: no money earned. In fact, money would be spent fixing my nail.

Where, oh where, are nice, single, normal, stable men looking to buy real estate? At least maybe I'd get a shot at dinner and conversation. As it is, I'll pop by Java Joint and give up my last five bucks for a decent shot of caffeine.

Like the song says, it's nice to be in a place "where everybody knows your name."

-- Carla

Posted by ~ Bailey Truitt @ 7:00 AM
I commend you on being a realtor. Having to work with the public all the time, trying to please, is not an easy endeavor. And I do understand how recent circumstances in Kanner Lake would make your job more difficult.
Posted by Anonymous elizabeth monty : 8:09 AM
You sell those houses, Carla! If anybody's got the can-do attitude to get 'er done, it's you.
Posted by Anonymous burt laroy : 8:10 AM
Thanks. Yes, it's been tough recently. That's why we in Kanner Lake stick together. :) It's so easy to focus on the negative sometimes, but we all have those days!
Posted by Blogger C. Radling : 8:34 AM
Years back when we bought our last home (and I do mean years), my wife like to run the poor realtor into the ground. We must have looked at two dozen houses. The wife found something wrong with every one of them. Finally, she fell in love with a certain kitchen and figured she could live with the rest of the house. And so she has--we've been here now for thirty-five years. We owe a lot to that realtor for her patience.
Posted by Anonymous Ed Williams : 3:00 PM
Well, you get good realtors and you get back ones. My daughter and her husband had one who tried to sell them a shack for half a million dollars, claiming it was a good deal. I don't care if it was in hoity toity California, ain't no shack worth half a million in my book.
Posted by Anonymous phillip capidopoulus : 3:02 PM
Sorry. Meant to say "good realtors and bad ones."
Posted by Anonymous phillip c. : 3:03 PM
I hope things start looking up soon. Hang in there kid.
Posted by Blogger The Curmudgeon's Rant : 1:17 PM
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