“Before we go any further, there is something you should know.” Jet said seriously, taking in a bite of sandwich. He finished chewing, giving enough time for the suspense to build. “I can’t date you.”
“Uh huh” I replied dully. I didn’t want to break his heart here, but Jet’s announcement was the last thing I expected.
It was Friday. Jet called me that morning, inviting me to lunch. He called it, “networking.” I preferred “free food.” After a quick trip to pay Carl, who thank God, wasn’t able to get up fast enough when I walked in to cop a feel, I had nothing else scheduled for the day. Wendy called me in the morning too, telling me she was in meetings—indicating they were extremely important and I was to fend for myself. Fine by me. She also promised a special assignment for me and she would call me later in the day. So, I was standing by.
“It isn’t personal.” Jet continued by way of an apology. “It is just that, see, I am an earth sign see, so I only date women with nature names.”
He had me there. “Nature names?”
He finished chewing. “Yea, like nature names. Holly, Heather, Ivy, Rose, Bubbles, Bambie...”
I nodded. “Crystal
Jet’s eyes got wide. “I hadn’t considered that. Wow! Think of the possibilities? That is a whole ‘nuther avenue.” He grabbed his phone with gusto and pushed the memo button, “Note to self, explore precious gems.” Back to me, “Thanks. I should also tell you—in case it ever comes up—I will make an exception for French names too, you know, Monique, Celeste, Yvette…” His voice drifted, as he obviously took a detour down memory lane.
“Why” I asked, morbidly curious, and instantly sorry. Jet just smiled and waggled his eyebrows. “Oh.” I said. Got it.
“You aren’t French are you?” He asked.
“Nope, half Irish, half mutt.”
“Too bad.” His look became solemn. “Just so you know, even though we can’t date, I will still sleep with you. If you want.”
I was so thankful I had swallowed my last bit of BLT before his words reached my ears. I held out a palm. “Born again virgin.”
Jet nodded sagely. “Bummer. When you get off the wagon maybe we can make a go of it.”
There was no chance in hell.
He took a swig of his tea, wiped his mouth and said, “So, now with that delicate topic out of the way, how’s real estate going?”
A wave of misery washed over me. It had been a long week. I had learned my success was tantamount to the endorsements given to me by perfect strangers. I was to bug everyone I know with letters telling them I am some so-called expert. And, I knew nothing. And, I was to talk to potential clients through a series of rehearsed tired sales pitches, not through actually getting to know my customers.
“And, what gets me is, this is what all the award-winning million dollar producers I have met do. I can’t get worked up about this because I don’t see any worth in it. I mean, how is this really selling houses?” I whined, wrapping up my tirade. I hadn’t expected it to be such a long bitch-fest.
Jet was contemplative. “Let me ask you,” he began. “How many houses do you think you need to sell these days to be a million dollar producer? It isn’t really very impressive. Houses do cost more than $30,000, you know.”
I hadn’t considered that. A “million dollar producer” sounded like an awesome achievement, but if you broke it down, it was what? A house a month? I laughed shaking my head for missing such an obvious point.
“And,” Jet continued, “If all of these people are so successful doing the same thing? Wouldn’t you want to be different? Aren’t you supposed to stand out?” I said nothing, so he continued. “Think about it. A script sounds canned. Everyone knows a script when they hear it. If a seller’s listing expires, don’t you think every agent out there will be calling them, with the same script, asking for their business?”
The light bulb went off. If what Jet said was true, what could I really learn from Wendy’s training?
Reading my mind, he replied, “Think about this. If these people who are giving you such sage advice—like the guy in the video—why are they training people instead of selling houses?”
“So, what do I do? You are in this business. Can you help me?” I asked.
Jet considered this for a moment. “You want me to teach you? You mean like Mike Dodd training Jake Gibb.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
Leaning forward, he spoke reverently, in an almost staccato whisper, “Mike Dodd is a legend in the volleyball circuit. He and his partner, Mike Whitmarsh won the silver in 1996 in Atlanta
It wasn’t the tutorship I had in mind, but apparently Jet got the general idea. “Look,” he said with a tone of exasperation. “If you and I are going to work together, you absolutely must know about volleyball.”
“Duly noted.” I replied impatiently. “Where do we start?”
“Ok, let me think. What do you need most?”
“Money.”
“Ok, so you need to find need to find someone to buy a house or someone to sell a house right?” I nodded like an idiot. “So, go find someone and earn a commission.”
“That’s it? It sounds so simple when you put it like that.”
Jet’s eyes smiled, as he leaned back in his chair with his arms outstretched. “That’s the beauty of it.”
“Yea, but well… not to sound ungrateful or anything. How do I find these people?”
He shrugged. “Search me? Let me think about that one and get back to you.”
“How was lunch?” Laura said somewhat dismissively as I walked in, Dawg and Champ, attached to my legs. She was washing the counter, her hand moving back and forth in the same spot for more than a minute as I watched her.
I saddled up to the breakfast bar, “Interesting.”
“Mmmm.” Laura said, obviously preoccupied in thought.
She was examining the counter—which no germ could survive. “Uh, Laura, is something wrong?” I asked. She had been spacey of late and I figured if she had time right now, maybe she would speak up. I still hadn’t mentioned the middle of the night visitor.
Laura looked up. “No, why?”
I shrugged. Nowhere really to go from there. “No reason.” I said.
Laura gave me a look of finality. She then changed cleaning spots, focusing on the sink behind her. Her back now to me, I recognized a brush off. Whatever was eating Laura she wanted to keep private.
“We’ll manage.” I told her affectionately, after getting last minute dinner ideas. I squeezed the closest Big B to my side.
“Yea Mommy. Tina’s in good hands,” he announced flexing his bicep.
Laura hadn’t been gone ten minutes when my phone rang. It was Wendy. “Oh Tina, We will be meeting at six o’clock, at the office” She gushed.
“Well actually, Wendy, I am baby-sitting tonight.” Silence. “Wendy, are you there.”
Oh yes she was. “Tina,” she said in the same pissed off tone Mother uses, “You are aware you are in training. When I talked to you this morning I explained we were going to meet a buyer. You do want a buyer don’t you? It is as good as yours.”
Wendy hadn’t mentioned anything of the sort. Instead, she had told me to focus on working my scripts and sent me on my way. I would remember a commission being waved in my face if she had mentioned it earlier. “Do I want a buyer?” I dully repeated.
“Of course, if you are coming with me. You would be the co-agent with my buyer. We would work together to find him a home. We will split the commission 50-50. I do it for all my new agents,” she purred.
“I need to get a sitter. I’ll call you back.” I said with a promise to be in touch in ten minutes.
I made a quick call to Frieda. She and Evan were in Laughlin. “How far is Laughlin from Phoenix Phoenix
Matt didn’t answer any of his phones nor the door when I ran across the street. I was toying with calling Laura to see if the boys could come to the hotel for a couple hours when my phone rang again. “I have a brilliant idea.” Jet started.
“I am so glad you called. Remember when you said if I needed anything not to hesitate to ask?” I didn’t give him time to answer. “Well I need something.”
“You off the wagon?” He said with a hopeful inflection.
“Not a chance. Are you doing anything tonight? I need a babysitter just for a couple hours.” I explained Wendy having a buyer she wanted me to meet and how she offered to let me be a co-agent. “I can make money finally.”
“Yea, I will help if it isn’t too long. I have a date.” I gave him the address and thanked him profusely.
Two hours later, Jet was at my door and I was racking my brain for a way for Laura never to find out about this. As protective as she was about Bruce and Buddy, coupled with her distant behavior, I didn’t need a crystal ball to tell me she wouldn’t be thrilled about a perfect stranger watching her boys.
As a pro-active strike, I had called her with an update, letting her know everything was fine at home. “Ok? Thanks?” she sounded bewildered—because she always called me, not the other way around. I accidentally-on-purpose forgot to hang up the phone, hoping if she called back, she wouldn’t think anything of it.
Jet was on the floor playing cops and ninjas with the boys. I hadn’t formally introduced them yet. “What’s your name, dude?” Jet asked.
“Buddy,” the boy said.
“How’d you get the scar?” Jet asked, giving him a high-five, then following up with a second for his brother.
I looked at Buddy as if seeing him for the first time. I gently ran my across the faint scar over his eyebrow.
“I fell when I was ‘iddle,” He said in his sweet baby voice.
“Ok, listen guys,” I said, leaning down and hugging the twins, “Stay inside the house today while Mommy and I are gone. And,” I said raising my eyebrows in exaggerated approval, “if you are super-duper good for Jet, I will bring back ice cream.” The three boys went nuts.
“What flavor?” Jet asked.
“Don’t you have a date?”
“Yea, but after ice cream. Cookie dough if you are taking requests.” I patted him on the head and told him I would see what I could do.
When I arrived at the office, Wendy gave me the particulars on our buyer. Dale Wilsh called the Metro Realty Professionals office yesterday saying he was thinking about buying a home. He needed more space than he currently has in his apartment.
Wendy discovered he was an Internet marketer and he planned on moving in the next few months. “An Internet marketer! I am sure he is quite successful. He sounds like a great start for you. Just think of the referrals you can get from him,” she said.
Then, Wendy gave me a quick tutorial about working with buyers. She had a presentation folder put together filled with lots of information for a prospective home buyer. It contained a book on the actual buying process, a four-color brochure about Metro Realty Pros and Wendy’s impressive resume.
“His buying timeframe is our challenge. You don’t want to take him out looking at homes for the next six months. The key is to change his mind. We need to identify with him—feel his pain.” I nodded.
Wendy continued, “We need to identify with him and help transition him from someone wanting to buy in the next few months to buying in the next few weeks. It is a piece of cake if you follow the scripts,” She said. “With your scripts and our presentation, we will lead this conversation and get our buyer enthusiastic about his next home. He will be ready to sign a contract by the end of next week. This will be a snap. I promise!” Wendy said with her annoying clap.
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