Ahhh, those REALLY embarrassing moments in real estate. We all have them, from not remembering a former customer or client's name immediately (come on, it cannot just be me!!) to forgetting whatever key or form of electronic we need to get into a listing, right down to driving down the wrong street or showing up at the wrong address ....it happens.
In July, 2008, I was showing waterfront property to a lovely couple, and we all know that pride in appearance counts in our industry. At approximately 5'3, I am ALL about the heels. Comfort be damned, just let me appear a little bit taller than I really am. And I can run around a bluff-side, waterfront property like a little billy goat...I've done it 1,000 times, on rocks, cliff, metal stairways down to the water, sand...you name it.
On this particular day in 2008, I was on my third waterfront property. This was (is) an absolutely adorable cottage on the shore...right on the shore...(too close for comfort for the DNR), and not only did have charm, lovely gardens, and incredible shore, it had one of those old fashioned, wooden-slatted permanent piers you don't see anymore in our state.
Wearing a skirt, white blouse and spiked heels, the four of us (including the listing agent) walked out on the pier with me talking roughly a mile a minute....pointing out the nearby Yacht Club, the charming sail boats, and expressing what the year-round sunsets would look like over the Bay and the bluffs.
Suddenly, without warning, I stopped. I was staring wordlessly up at the cloudless, blue, summer sky. My HEEL had gotten stuck in one of the slots of the charming, old-fashioned pier. I went down like a ton of bricks--flat on my back and my crisp, white blouse. Meanwhile, my other shoe had gone flying right off my other foot...and straight into the Bay, of course.
While I lay there silently, closing my eyes and wondering what, exactly, to do next, the listing agent gallantly grabbed my other shoe out of the water. I said a silent prayer, wriggled my foot out of the "stuck" shoe (nearly giving everyone a lovely glimpse of my underpants in the interim), sprang up and smiled.
Assuring everyone I was alright, I walked carefully (and barefoot) to the end of the dock, and we concluded our tour with all parties tactfully "forgetting" what had just happened.
They didn't buy that house. I walked around the rest of the day with "pier slats" on my back and one "squishy", water-logged shoe. It became one of the longest days of my life. And I don't wear spiked heels to show homes with docks anymore (but I still like to list them!).
HOMES FOR SALE WITH DOCKS IN DOOR COUNTY, WI
Sitting on a Dock on the Bay.This post is an entry for the November 2014 Contest "I Cannot Believe I Just Did THAT".
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