Saturday morning, a Denver real estate agent named Ben Thorson had a listing appointment that didn’t go quite to plan. Ben (27 years of age), got the referral from his younger cousin who put him in touch with a family he knew from high school. Ben had met the parents at a wedding six months ago and was under the assumption that it was “a lock” because he had “killed it with them” in their first meeting. Ben pulled up to the appointment in Cherry Creek confident and dressed to the nines. He had all of his comps printed out and a fresh new listing presentation laminated and bounded. He even had two of his business cards in the folder to emphasize his level of professionalism. Once they started talking about what to list the home for, the husband casually asked Ben if he had sold anything in the area. According to the husband, Ben started profusely sweating and began opening and closing different pages in his packet as if to look for the answer. Ben stumbled over his words and handed the couple a brochure of a house that he had listed over twenty miles away. After about ten seconds of deafening silence, Ben threw his chair to the side and dove head first out of the dining room window. Glass everywhere, the couple quickly slid to the window to see what had happened to Ben. They said they saw him sprinting at top speed down the street. A neighbor found his tie a mile down the road. He hasn’t been heard from since.