The Plastic Pig (and How to Pick Your Agent)

by Kris Berg

Realtor, Associate Broker

Author website

A million years ago, my mother won the office football pool. It was a Pick the Winners contest, and she did it with a plastic pig. Now, keep in mind that this is the same woman that found herself relegated to her bed for a week after losing the rubber match of “Who Can Jump Over the Most Boxes in the Backyard” to my then 14-year-old brother. Evel Knievel she wasn’t.

Anyway, she had this hysterically funny wind-up pig that, when activated, would spin furiously on its base, squealing all the while. Her scientific winner-picking method, the envy of any Vegas sports book, involved circling the team name which resided in the ultimate landing vector of the pig’s tail. When she collected the booty this particular weekend, a guy at the office replied in disgust, “I can’t believe I was beat by a plastic pig”.

Certain events of the past week have led me to believe that too many people are relying on the plastic pig method in selecting their real estate agent. Now, an agent plays many roles, but marketing and exposure of your home is first and foremost. Without an interested buyer and without an offer, an agent’s professed superiority in negotiations and contract management will be meaningless and in fact go untested. The listings without photos or well-written text, the agent voice mail messages declaring that “all calls received after 5:00 PM will be returned the next business day” (or on the Autumnal Equinox, whichever occurs last), the show instructions which involve 24-hour notice, a silent prayer to the East and the winning lotto ticket are all things I have encountered. All, unfortunately, serve only to keep agents and their buyers away.

My latest reminder that all agents are not deserving of the listings with which they have been entrusted came in the form of a phone call from a frustrated shopper. Three messages to the agent’s number in the ad and 48 hours later, she was still trying to make an appointment to see a property. Ultimately, she pulled my number off of another sign in the neighborhood in a last, desperate attempt to gain access. Based on the area code of the listing agent, I must assume she didn’t have time or inclination to make the 3-hour drive to open up the (vacant) home.

I showed the buyer the property, of course, and another in the complex. It took me five minutes. I had to ask myself, however, why would the seller hire someone who wasn’t going to be available to work on their behalf? Did they have a previous relationship with this agent? Well, I have previous relationships with buyers all over the place, but I am NOT the best one to represent them in their next sale if their current property is located outside of the county. Did the relationship involve an agent who was giving them a “break” on fees? They will only realize this savings if the home actually sells and for market price.

Coincidentally, I received a special, personal email from Redfin’s Glenn Kelman last week. He undoubtedly sent me this email because he respects my opinion and authority. Or, I suppose it could have been a blast to all of the people like myself who signed in on the Redfin website month’s ago during a snooping-around-with-nothing-to-do moment. The email was an announcement of their expansion plans in the San Francisco Bay Area. Now, I know Glenn is a busy man, but I had to hit the reply button and ask about any plans to conquer San Diego in the near future. (This is the kind of relationship we have). To his credit, he did respond immediately (“reply to all”?) and informed me that they would be coming soon. This got me again thinking about the Redfin model and the inherent flaws of which we have talked ourselves blue in the face. The Redfin buyer is charged with finding their home of choice and delivering it to the Redfin agent on a silver platter, at which point the agent will write the offer on their behalf for a reduced fee. Sounds delightfully simple to the control-inclined, the do-it-yourselfer, the I-don’t-need-no-stinkin’ agent contingent. But what happens when you are faced with a world of plastic pigs?

I have one potential answer, which is also my punch line and a reminder to agents. The buyer I spoke of who nearly begged for access to the plastic pig home, the buyer who was delightful and respectful and at wit’s end on the phone, viewed the properties with me, thanked me, and did a bee-line for the car. Poof! Now you see her, now you don’t! In retrospect, our relationship was doomed from the beginning. She only loved me for my lockbox key. It’s my fault, of course. I have been in this business long enough to know better, and to preface any showings with the ground rules (I show you the home, I write the offer). Being married to a Pollyanna does tend to rub off eventually, though, and I too often choose to be trusting when I shouldn’t and act on instincts when they are misguided.

I will continue to cling to the notion that most people are good and decent, that they will by and large treat others with respect, and in the case of agents, will recognize that we are not non-profit institutions. But with the Redfin-like business models emerging that may in fact encourage deceptive showings when one finds themself face to face with a plastic pig, it may be better not to leave it to chance.