Kyle Katz sent me a story to share with y’all and I laughed my ass off all the way through it. And, in the back of my mind, I heard Donna Summer singing, ‘She Works Hard for the Money!”. It’s one of those stories where the protag (Kyle) keeps getting deeper and deeper in dodo trying to put together a real estate deal. I’ve known a lot of real estate agents in my years but I’ve never known one that would go to the extremes Kyle did to close the deal. And – the best part is…… Well, I’m not going to tell you how it all comes out. I was laughing so hard by the end of the story that when I got to the end, I just let out a HUGE explosive ‘F’ word and laughed harder.
So, don’t read the end first. You won’t understand it. Here’s Kyle Katz and her hugely funny story;
I didn’t do anything illegal. Just stupid. Or was it? My boss said I put everyone in danger. As a reprimand he demanded a polished presentation for new recruits of “WHAT NOT TO DO?”
HERE IT IS!
by Kyle Katz
There are 9 million stories about realtors in the naked city…terrible stories giving us a bad name, most of them true!
This is one of them.
Good morning new recruits and fellow realtors.
It was 2:15 pm. when I met with the 2 Portuguese fishermen to list their duplex investment property on Luna Street. Luna was an appropriate name. It had to do with full moons and crazy people. I’m not going to pull any punches; I was dealing with real pigs (exhibit a). (Pictures of pigs in the mud)
I was warned, partner 2 had lost it. Fished off the edge a little too much. He was an alleged drug dealer and a wife beater, according to partner 1. Sure, I was disgusted, but a girl’s gotta make a living. I had a mouth to feed. Exhibit b (picture of a homeless shelter and kids begging for food)
Later on in the day I found out there was a $60,000 bail bond against the property. All the work I did I felt like a jackass (exhibit c). after numerous phone calls and investigations, the lien was finally removed.
I then questioned all parties involved to make sure there weren’t any more surprises. There was–it had been in foreclosure, but a cashier’s check was produced to verify that everything was current.
The next day in my office, partner 2 warned me that partner 1 lied and was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I had to hurry to get this deal closed, so I pulled a couple of all nighters. (Exhibit c, dancing at the clubs with friends) The Luna property went into escrow.
Partner 2, the alleged drug dealer sent the paper work back and signed in the wrong place. Time was of the essence. That’s when I volunteered to pick up all the paper work and point to where it had to be signed
I rarely found the partner 2 husband and wife together. When they were it was a screaming match. Only one signature…I had to go back, that evening.
My silver cutlass supreme rolled up to the front, I turned off the engine and heard voices in the garage. Upon entering the premises everyone scurried, bags of white powder everywhere, and partner 2 trying to stash the goods.(exhibit d a family baking cookies. White flour worked best) It was obvious he was a dealer demon from hell. And my Saturday night special wasn’t enough so I started packing my home protection policy.
I left immediately! (Exhibit e)(A picture of my cutlass and it’s burgundy interior) sweet!!
The next day back at the office I received a call from partner !. He was upset and said the property was in foreclosure again. I called the bank and they said we had three months to sell Luna. Needless to say, things were tense between the partners.
I called partner 1 and told him about the foreclosure. He said he didn’t know about it. His wife took care of the business and I’d have to talk to her.
I met with her the next day. Her eye was black and her face bruised. She talked my ears off for hours with her problems. She told me her husband was spending all the money on drugs. I told her where she could get help but to get the deal closed was the objective. She agreed.
I was scared the deal might never close (back to exhibit b). (the homeless shelter picture)
Partner 1 called the next day and told me he was leaving for a fishing trip for four days and I should handle things–I said thanks.”
He told me don’t believe anything partner 2’s wife says–she’s a drug addict–I said “thanks a lot.”
3 days before escrow was to close I asked the wife about a document she didn’t sign. If we didn’t get the document, escrow wouldn’t close. She said she was sorry but their house was broken into twice and her husband bought a gun so things were ok. I could pick the papers up that night; they’d be in the mailbox.
I pulled up to the residence a 10pm. I knew partner 2 was packing a piece so I had my home protection plan ready–just in case. I approached the house, it was dark, I could hear my heart pounding, and I even asked the big guy in the sky for help. I opened the mailbox and to my surprise– I found nothing. I jumped in my car and burned rubber, mad as hell.
My fingers went numb dialing their number over and over. The suspects(I mean clients) were nowhere to be found. Finally my sources revealed that partner 2 was in jail again. I’d have to thump downtown to the jail to get his signature. My sources warned me that partner 2 would use the property as bail and screw up the deal once and for all. When I got to the jail I found he’d already been released.
I wore out my shoes beating a trail over to their house trying to find partner 2 or his wife, who had since got wise and now had the power of attorney. But nobody was ever home.
Finally the day before escrow was supposed to close, the wife called. She said she was sorry but her husband had been shot and killed. She’d meet me at the office to sign the documents. I was nervous as hell. They’re was a quiet calm about her, and in her Portuguese eyes were the sweet release of a captured, wounded animal.
“I’m sorry to hear about your husband.”
I’m not. She said sweetly, she locked eyes with mine. I was chilled.
“Now where should I sign?”
I got a standing ovation!
*For five years after this event. I represented the Portuguese fisherman and their families until the industry died.
My Broker bragged about me for years.