I walked up to the front and noticed a strange rectangular sculpture on the right side of the door. Before I knocked, I nonchalantly straightened the sculpture upright on the wall and wiped my feet on the doormat. Shortly after, the owner opened the door and invited me in his home. As I went to shake his hand, I noticed that he was wearing a Boston Red Sox cap.
“Ahh the Sox,” I said. “As a Yankees fan, it is safe to say that 2004 was one of the worst years of my life.” The seller had absolutely no reaction to my statement and shut the door behind me.
I tried again: “Beautiful home you have here sir. How long have you and your family lived here?” He responded apathetically, “A few years. We really want to move closer to the city.”
I set my listing presentation on a coffee table and began to take out some brochures of my previous listings. “So might I ask, what did you not like about your other realtor? What do you want your next agent to do differently?”
He didn’t even look in my direction and responded, “Sell the damn home.” I started to get a little uneasy, so I took a sip of my water bottle and set it down on the table. He looked at me in horror and slapped the bottle to the ground before it even got settled. A small ring formulated on the wood where my water had been.
“Have you no respect?” He glared. I quickly apologized and wiped my shirt on the table to get rid of the ring. “Look sir, why don’t you give me a tour of the house, and I’ll give an idea of what I think we should price it at.”
As he walked me into one of the bedrooms, I noticed an odd collection of what looked to be a female model. I grinned and said, “Must be your son’s room. Hell of a set of buns on that broad.”
“That’s my daughter.” Of course it was. At this moment, I decided to throw in the towel and get out of there as soon as possible. I grabbed my comps and began to make my way to the door. “Thanks for your time,” I said reluctantly. “I went ahead and straightened that sculpture over your front door. It was a little crooked.” He looked at me in disbelief. “That is my mezuzah you idiot! I am Jewish!”
It is safe to say that I did not get that listing. When my partner asked me how the appointment went, I said, “He didn’t seem interested in selling. No motivation.”
What did I learn?
Find things in common with your seller. Don’t bring up opposing viewpoints in sports, politics or religion.
Put your water on a coaster.
Do not make any flirtatious comments about the seller’s daughter — or son.
A mezuzah (Hebrew: מְזוּזָה “doorpost”; plural: מְזוּזוֹת mezuzot) is a piece of parchment (often contained in a decorative case) inscribed with specified Hebrew verses from the Torah. It is supposed to hang crooked.