This was in 2005, and houses were tough to get. We looked at one that I knew was doable, so I said, “So, are we ready to write a contract?”
Just doing my job, but Sonny said: “Wow. He’s a closer.”
And I thought: “Wow. He’s a cooler.”
I was wrong, though. Sonny caught on quick, and by the next morning he was ready to buy, too.
He and Tony found a FSBO that was holding an open house. Sonny was definitely interested, but they couldn’t figure the seller out.
They asked me to meet him and in six questions I sussed out the scam: The seller was a seminar investor who would get pre-foreclosure borrowers to put him on title, promising to help, then essentially sell their homes out from under them. He was so cagey because he lived in fear of his past victims. He worked out of a Post Office box and met people in parking lots. No kidding.
Those six questions set my star above all others in Sonny’s eyes. We bought the house, and I had to write my own sales commission into the deal, since the property was not listed.
He moved his mother into that house, and she was there until she had to move on. I sold it when she did, and Sonny did all right. Not a killing, but all right – for a house that almost fell into his lap.
And the next one literally did. I was working in a house we had just acquired for another investor when a neighbor popped in and asked, “Are you a real estate agent?”
It can happen – bread cast upon the waters. And it gets better:
The neighbor was Joe, and Joe said, “Can you find a buyer for my house? I don’t want a lot of hassle, I just want to get out Read more