OK, the man was not actually masked, but I swear, that will be the ONLY exaggeration in my story. After all, this IS a true story, not one of my crazy dreams.
When I first got into real estate, I was an assistant to a broker. About six months into the job, he told me he would like me to hold one of his listings open. I thought, why not? He was going to pay me my usual hourly wage, and I didn't really have any plans that Sunday.
I placed some signs, and headed over to my very first open house. The homeowners were out of town, so I let myself in, and looked around to get familiar with the house. A few couples arrived and I introduced myself and answered any questions they had. I was feeling pretty good about how things were going. It got quiet, so I went into the kitchen to retrieve a book I had brought with me. Never hearing the front door open, I was startled to look up and see a man in the doorway of the kitchen.
He was probably 6' 3'' or so, and dressed in head to toe black leather. He had dark glasses on, so I couldn't see his eyes. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I realized that I was alone in the house with him. I decided to forego the introduction, and told him to feel free to look around. As soon as he headed down the hall, I moved to the entryway. I noticed that he had placed a motorcycle helmet on the table. My first thought was "great, he's going to kill me here, because he sure can't take me anywhere". Then I thought "but, he can put my body in the trunk of my car, which is now empty of the signs that had filled it thirty minutes ago." This inner dialog was not helping my nervousness! He reappeared, and I asked him if he was working with an agent. Boy, I hoped my boss would appreciate my dedication right up to the end of my life! He mumbled something about his agent being out of town. This was not going well. As he headed back into the kitchen, I thought about what I was wearing: a skirt and heels. Why the heck did I dress that way? Sure, I wore heels to make my legs look shapelier, but now that seemed like a really bad idea! Then the thought struck me-WHAT IF I HAVE TO RUN? Do I kick my shoes off, and then run, or do I start running, kicking my shoes off as I go?
He came back into the living room, looking around at all the things he had already looked at. What if I kicked my shoes off first, and he didn't chase me? Maybe he would see that as some kind of encouragement! CRAP, why didn't I ever take a self defense course? Then he asked me how long I was planning on being there. I told him my boss would be joining me soon (good thinking, Elaine), and then we would decide. He shrugged his shoulders, and walked out the door (this was after I peeled my fingers from the doorknob that I had been squeezing for the last ten minutes). All I could think of was "thank you Lord, for not allowing me to die today at this, my very first open house!" Four o'clock rolled around, and I started turning off lights and locking the back doors. Just then, I heard a motorcycle! My hands were shaking as I grabbed my purse, bolted out the front door, and fumbling, finally got the key back in the lockbox. A dark shadow fell across the porch, "Can I talk you into letting me back in for a minute?" Not unless I've completely lost my mind, I wanted to say!!! I walked past him, saying something about being late for an appointment. I got in my car, and didn't look back! I thought about calling the police, but I didn't know what to say. I think a man thought about killing me and stuffing me in the trunk of my car? I decided then and there, open houses were for the brave or the reckless, and I was neither.
The next day, I couldn't wait to tell my boss about the harrowing experience I had, and how I had almost died in his four bedroom ranch style listing in the cul-de-sac. Before I had a chance, he gives me a big hug, and says, "You are some saleswoman"! What??? I didn't have a clue what he was talking about! He said "I just got off the phone with a guy who wants to write an offer on the house he saw yesterday, at YOUR open house! He wants to measure the TV built-in to see if his big screen will fit, which I guess he tried to do yesterday, but you were packing up. AND, the really great news is that he doesn't have an agent, so I'll double end the commission!" Wait a minute!!! "He told me he had an agent!" "Yeah, he told you that because he was afraid you would put the hard sell on him." WHAT??? EXCUSE ME??? He was afraid??? I would have maced the guy in a minute if I had mace. I was thinking about gouging his eyes out with my car keys, and this guy was AFRAID of me??? So, the story isn't quite over. Not only did my boss give me a big fat bonus, but I went on to do dozens of open houses. And nothing bad ever happened. BUT, no more skirts and no more heels. And I never sold another one. Maybe, there WAS something to the shapely legs.....
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