Change Agent

I should remember to carry cards for my career change coaching business for the occasions when I venture on people who are quite obviously in the wrong job.

In the market for a new home I recently visited a cute little cottage with a lovely tree-filled backyard, and popped in to see another house on the way home.

The agent dressed in his polo shirt and chinos greeted me awkwardly staring with an intense unnerving gaze and without any friendly chit chat told me that he was going to 'put me in the system'.

I’m already ‘in the system’ I thought to myself bemused, having worked in Government for twenty years – I was part of ‘the system’.

'What's your name?' he demanded assertively as he thumped away on his finger-print riddled iPad.

‘Kim’ I replied (Bugger, I wished that I had used an alias – I quite fancy being known as Titania - Queen of the Faeries – note to self for next time).

‘Beautiful’ he stated insincerely as he continued looking at his screen.

I have never considered my name ‘beautiful’ before, practical, easy to spell, and economic on syllables but never beautiful – this was rather novel.

He took the rest of my details (muttering ‘beautiful’ after each new piece of information, and then let me through the front door.

‘The master bedroom and ensuite are through there, and this house has a double-height garage’ he recited.

‘Perfect for my Monster Truck’ I said happily.

Blankly, he stared at me with his glazed-over expression, pupils fixed, unmoving, obviously not appreciating my witty retort, or possibly not processing anything I was saying that wasn’t ‘beautiful’.

I wandered through the labyrinth of the home. The owners had quite obviously converted the garage into another lounge and master suite as it was awkwardly positioned, and significantly lower than the rest of the house – you pretty much needed a guide rope and Sherpa to navigate your way down there safely, but on the upside, a great place to take refuge in the event of a tornado.

The home itself was comprised of a series of rooms with no real flow - lots of hallways and doors and hard surfaces. It was however, immaculately presented – with not a thing out of place, no clutter, and very, very shiny floors.

Positioned next to a busy road and with no backyard to buffer the noise of the unrelenting traffic, it simply had no serenity, no soul and felt a bit like a factory in an industrial estate.

As I moved towards the front door to leave the agent said briskly ‘Well, did you like it?’

‘No, it was a little bit…’ I started.

‘Thanks’ he cut me off mid-sentence without letting me finish and promptly turned away from me, turning his attention back to his iPad (perhaps he was engaged in a high-pressure game of Candy Crush and about to be crushed by a mountain of boiled sweets?)

I paused for a moment, raised my eyebrows in surprise, and then exited the house.

I love looking at properties, I appreciate good design, improvement potential, and enjoy getting a sense of market value. I have encountered a great deal of real estate agents, some very engaging and chatty, most friendly and good at highlighting the positive aspects of the property, letting me know about recent sales in the area and similar properties, and some just doing their job as promptly and efficiently as possible.

From a buyer’s perspective however, there is a big difference between an agent you want to do business with and one who blatantly wants a quick sale.

A good agent will ask you whether you are looking to buy. They will ask you what you liked about the property, or what else you might be looking for. They will make a statement along the lines of ‘Would you like me to keep you on our register should anything in that price range/style/location come up?’ or they might say ‘I have a property on my books that I think you would like; I will send you through the details.’

The last property I owned was sold by an agent who had buyers on his books, ready to purchase, who hadn’t quite found what they were looking for. From a seller’s perspective, it was a breeze - no open homes, no advertising, and negotiations with a genuine buyer (the only thing we had to haggle over was the agent’s commission).

From a buyer’s perspective he found the perfect home for them, they didn’t have to trawl through properties that looked great on-line, but not so great in real life weekend after weekend. He knew their budget, and didn’t waste their time (or his).

The key to sales is building the relationship – be it a two-minute relationship, or one that lasts longer. Establishing rapport and delivering something that meets a want or need.

Upon exiting that house, I had immediately written off our exchange as unproductive. He didn’t sell the house for his clients, nor did he offer me anything as a potential client, in fact he had left me feeling as if I wasn’t worth his time or energy.

Curiously, a couple of days later my telephoned trilled with a mobile number that I didn’t recognise.

‘Hello, it’s Steve*’ a familiar voice delivered. ‘You came and had a look through 6 Smith Street on the weekend, what did you think of it?’

Inwardly I chuckled, aware that Steve hadn’t actually paid heed to my attempt to comment on the property on Saturday.

‘It’s not for me’ I replied.

‘Oh well, it sold anyway’ he retorted smugly.

‘Then why pray, are you ringing me?’ I thought silently to myself, keen to get back to chopping the carrots for dinner.

‘Are you looking for a house?’ he asked.

‘Yes, actually I am looking for a home in the <<insert price range>>’ I said, always willing to give someone a second chance to change my first impression of them.

‘Oh, you won’t find anything in that price range, and if you do they will sell quickly.’ he replied with a hint of sneer in his voice.

I channelled my inner tween and rolled my eyes – this guy was doing nothing to endear me to him.

‘Ok, thanks for that.’ I said.

‘Do you want me to keep you on our register and I will call you if a property comes up?’ he enquired.

‘Yes, I love being treated with disdain’ I said.

Ok, I didn’t say it, but if I didn’t have a good upbringing I quite possibly would have said it.

‘No thanks Steve’ I replied, ‘Thank you for calling.’