You won't find Kathleen Daniels' contest this month on the AR Contest Page because...well, just because. There is some kind of techno glitch, which you can read about here. And, you can read about the contest in more detail, including the rules, here.
Anyway, I have been ruminating over what to post, what embarrassing or funny (or even sad) story did I have to share.
What would make you laugh or make you cry?
Well, I can tell you what made me cry...ok, I didn't really cry, but I sure wanted to.
I had not been in real estate very long, in fact, my first transaction was new construction, so this was my first experience with actually driving up to houses, getting out of the car, finding the lockbox and so forth.
Hey, it's a little more challenging than it sounds. At least when you are a brand spanking new agent who still had difficulty getting keys in locks.
Anyway, so here I am, all dressed up - yes, that was a dead giveaway that I was a brand new agent - because not only was I dressed up, I had on heels. At barely 5' tall, when I wear heels, well, the sky's the limit.
And you know what doesn't go well with heels?
Wooden walkways. That's right, wooden walkways made of deck boards.
What were we doing on a wooden walkway? Well, in the backyard of the first house we looked at was a gorgeous and massive koi pond, set in the middle of what looked like a garden oasis.
It was exquisite and ever so inviting.
So, of course, not being content to merely let the clients simply look at it from the safety of the deck, noooo, off I went, dragging them behind me, taking a tour of this beautiful backyard.
I LOVED that backyard, just loved it...never mind it was so NOT about me, I wanted to see this pond up close and personal and I wanted THEM to see it, too.
Because I just knew if they could see this paradise the way I was seeing it, they would fall in love with the house.
Halfway around the wooden walkway encircling the pond and garden, my heel caught on one of the rotting deck boards (Oops! Didn't notice that!) and down I went, crashing through the walkway, destroying my practically new shoe, scraping the $%#@ out of my leg and ripping my skirt.
My clients, after getting over the momentary shock, didn't know whether to laugh to cry, but taking their cue from me, ended up laughing hysterically.
Of course, tears of laughter also mean your mascara runs and your makeup gets all FUBAR.
My dear clients decided to call it a day. I am not sure if it was concern for me or if they were just too choked up to continue that afternoon.
It was definitely a day to remember, even if I would prefer not to!
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