Realty reality: If you want people to remember you, scream at them . . .

by Greg Swann

Suburban Phoenix Real Estate Broker

Author website

I had email earlier this year, a warm lead off our web site. “Can you tell me more about this house?” What I had was an MLS number, but what I saw in the MLS was Westwood High School with a pool. So I sent back what I had on the house I was asked about, but I also sent everything active near Westwood High School with a pool. I followed up with our standard buyer’s email, amending it to ask what else I should be searching for.

This, by the way, is the extent of my initial effort with warm leads coming in from the web site. If you want to dance, we’ll dance. If you want to be left alone — I can do that perfectly.

An email comes back, and it’s good and bad. Clearly motivated and a definite timeline, but they were pre-qualified right at the bleeding edge of no inventory of any kind. That’s okay. I like that kind of problem. Westwood High wasn’t essential; they just like the area. A pool wasn’t absolutely necessary, provided the lot was big enough to support one eventually. Still not easy, but easier.

But very, very motivated. I would shoot out listings and they would be out driving by the homes before I could phone to follow up. They had kissed about a dozen frogs before they found one they wanted to go into.

I met them at that house — that motivated — and we took a look. Not right, but everything they said helped me refine their search.

Outside we hit a stumbling block: “We had another Realtor we were working with, but you just keep sending us more and more houses, so we’re switching to you.”

Oops! I treat the people coming in from the internet as being unrepresented. Many are so far from being ready to jump that they might not actually be in the market at all.

Anyway, I said, “Have you signed anything?” This is a bright line distinction. If I have to ask about specific documents, I will.

“Nope, nothing.”

“Well, I wish you had told me sooner, but I should have thought to ask. No harm done. So you know, if you find someone you like even better, that’s your business. You have to do what’s right for yourselves.”

Other days, other houses. We wrote on one but didn’t get it. I gave my speech about why losing a house can be a blessing in disguise. This is totally alien to the way that I think, but I’ve had it happen again and again: People lose the house they thought they couldn’t live without only to find one they love even more.

And that’s what happened. Block construction, decent shape, a huge lot with a $2,000 powered gate in the alley. Old growth trees for abundant shade, but with plenty of room for a pool. They loved it.

I got on the phone with Cathy to have her run the listing archive so we would know what we could get away with. I called the lister and told him that we wanted the house, that we would write and fax that day and could we get a quick answer?

The lister told me everything. Seller’s history with the property. Two previous contracts that had fallen through. Seller’s needs, motivation and time-frame. My gut said this was a violation of the seller’s right to confidentiality — but it wasn’t my violation.

So — what the heck? Let’s roll the bones. Suppose we were to structure the deal like this? I outlined a proposal to the huge advantage of my buyers.

“Can you double the earnest deposit and make it non-refundable after inspections?”

Why not.

“She’ll sign that.”

Oh, my people! Life should not be this easy…

So right away we’re in our cars, racing back to my office. I’m on the phone dictating language to Cathy so she can have the contracts ready to sign when I get there. They sign, I fax, we all have a beer (the joys of working from home). We had acceptance before we were done with the second beer.

I’m back and forth between the office and the kitchen, watching the fax machine like a mother hen. I come back and Cathy said, “Repeat that story.”

“I called that other agent back on the way over here,” one of the buyers said. “I told her we found a house and that we’re working with you. I said, ‘I know we’re friends and I hope we can stay friends, but you just weren’t getting the job done.’ Well, she lit into me like I was was the worst person on Earth. ‘”How dare you!?! I was doing you a favor helping you find your little house! You had no right to go shopping around behind my back!”‘ It just went on an on. Finally I had to hang up.”

I stood in the kitchen with my jaw hanging open. I told them how grateful to them I was for letting me handle this for them — and the true fact is, from a purely sporting point of view, I like the hard ones better.

But I also told them what the other agent should have said in that circumstance:

“You found a house? Hey, that’s great! I guess you know I was having a tough time coming up with anything, so I’m glad you met someone who could do better. I’m so happy for you guys! I wish it could have been me there with you, but I’m just delighted that you were able to find something you love. Now, I know I didn’t deliver the goods this time, but I hope you’ll keep me in mind in the future. I list stronger than anyone, so you might call me when you’re ready to sell. And if you refer friends or family, I’ll give them my Special Friends discount. And I’ve already bought a bottle of Old Bushmills for your housewarming, so don’t forget to invite me. Congratulations to both of you!”

The point is, the house is already gone. All you can do at that point is try to hang on to the good will — and your dignity. I delivered that speech once at an ABR class and there were heads shaking all around the room — which I think denotes two misconceptions. First, people don’t buy and sell real estate to compensate Realtors. That’s a side-effect. And second, happy clients don’t stray. When they do, it’s your fault, not theirs. They’re just trying to get their needs met.

We went through the process, and everything was pretty smooth. They wanted more for repairs that the seller was willing to concede, so, rather than cancel, I kicked in a big chunk of money — which I’m guessing the other agent would not have done. I liked them and I wanted them to have what they wanted. And, frankly, as a matter of self-interest, I know that their getting what they want will turn into referrals for me. We do excellent work whether or not we get paid, but we also know that doing excellent work earns us many more opportunities to get paid.

Here’s the best part, though: In the course of that transaction, I heard the story of that other agent at least a dozen times. They told everyone they came into contact with about it, citing the agent by name and describing their indignation in very florid terms. The poor kid should be glad they don’t weblog, or she’d never dare Google her own name.

The irony of this is, it is so hard to get people to remember you. Realtors spend fortunes on cheesy cult-of-personality advertising, slapping their names on everything except the garage door. We do everything we can think of to stay in front of our past clients, and I expect we’ll see these buyers on and off for many years. Even so, at some point, they may forget about me. But they will never, ever forget the agent who screamed at them for being unworthy of her neglect. That’s one Realtor they will remember to their graves…

Technorati Tags: arizona, arizona real estate, phoenix, phoenix real estate, real estate, real estate marketing