Eye of The (Flu Shot) Needle? If you Can Find it!

Nowadays it’s ‘trendy’ to save money any way one can. For me, the sort of story I’m about to tell has been a way of life for years:

Talk about a flu shot scam. My work is offering it, but they’re not giving the shots until the first week of December, which is, IMHO, a little late. Especially considering that it takes about two weeks for the shot to be fully effective.

Next call? My doctor’s office. They claimed my insurance didn’t cover it. At first, I was going to just run downtown and let my doc give me the shot, for $25 cash. But then I started to get suspicious about what his staff told me about my insurance not covering the shot.

So I called the insurance company. Turns out they do indeed cover the shot. I asked them where I could get it because my reg doc had "opted" not to particpate. They seemed fluxxomed, put me on hold, then referred me to 311 to find locations for free or low cost flu shot clinics. They also told me I could go to the hospital. Uh, no thanks. I have nothing against the Health Dept or free clinics, but even my cheap ass is willing to pay a bit of money to not have to wait in a huge ass line, full of idiots and their screaming spawn, no doubt. Hey, I take the subway every day; I see those people enough as it is. And the ER seems a bit extreme of a place to go for a simple flu shot. Thanks for the offer, but I’ll not risk being traumatized by ER drama of bloodied, incoherent, ill people, or worse, getting in the way of the very people who need urgent care.

Next logical step in this illogical journey: Googling around to find some local clinics that might offer the shot for a discount. The first that local clinic on my call list acted all sketchy.

“Who is this?” they asked. “How did you get this number?” [The defensive tone struck me immediately]

“My name is ____ and I live nearby. I found this number on the Internet.”

“Well, we don’t offer those services here. You can go to the Department of Health. Call 311,” says the woman on the phone, in a very defensive and irritated tone.

“Can you please tell me if you guys still have that clinic over on Amsterdam Avenue?”

She tells me, “I can’t disclose that information.”

At this point, I got rude and hung up on her. I mean, WTF? Your number and address are listed online. So it’s not like your clinic is some big secret. I was just trying to figure out if the other clinic was still operating, so I asked you. Yet you can’t disclose whether or not a public clinic is still operating?

A friend later pointed out that I might have called a clinic serving victims of domestic violence, or AIDS, hence the suspicious tone they took with me. Umm, if that's the case, they'd do well to look into this really novel concept. It's call and UN-listed telephone number.

Frustrated, my next attempt involved about half an hour of trying to get ahold of a live human being inside one of the newish walk-up clinics inside Duane Reade. I simply wanted to ask them if they accepted insurance for their flu shots, or if they only took cash. The answer: Cash only. $30. Ok, at least I know one fast place to go as a last resort.

The matter was finally resolved by me taking a quick walk to a clinic near me that I remembered going to during my Columbia days. Back then, I got my flu shot for free. My thought: Even if it costs $$$ now, I felt fairly certain it wouldn’t cost $25 or $30.

Turns out I was right. But not before yet more runaround. The first woman I talked to at the front desk explained that the clinic, which was once run by the hospital, was now private. Yes, they did accept my insurance, she said, but in order to land a flu shot, I’d have to change my primary care physician to the doc who now practices there.

The Flu Shot Gods intervened at that point, and she was called away from her post. I asked her colleague, “Can’t I just get the shot here and pay you guys whatever you charge for it without changing my doctor and having to go through my insurance?”

This woman (finally!) was on point, and she said that for a $10 fee, I could indeed get the shot without involving my insurance or changing my primary care doc. So that’s exactly what I did.

Bring on nationalized health care. Now.

What Goes Around Comes Around

Yes, I've been quiet lately. This has allowed several tidbits of info to build up:

I have actually been working on getting out of the real estate business since late 2006, and the break is definitely official now. I am building a career in another, hopefully better industry. As a result, my mental health seems to have stabilized, despite the fact that my income hasn't (yet).

However, sometimes morbid curiosity gets the better of me I dig around online to see who is hiring. It seems that my old firm (the one I worked in in property management, complete with the nutty boss), is hiring. Again. They have such turnover issues there. I wonder why? <----- Insert sarcastic tone of voice here.

That Evil Boss and I actually ran into one another on the street a few weeks ago. It was quite the shock to my system, and lots of icky feelings came back in that instant that we spotted one another on Broadway. We waved at each other and pretended to be really into our cell phones. Whew, crisis averted!

Horrid ex-bosses aside, I'm particularly glad I'm not in RE right now, because of the inevitable migration of jerk-off finance industry types into the business. I know some bankers, stock brokers, etc, and they're generally pretty cool. However, real estate seems to attract a certain population of assholes, and I have no doubt that many of that finance types who also happen to be raging, Gordon Gekko wannabe assholes have already made their way into real estate. Bleh!

While we're on the topic of comings and goings: The firm that gave me the boot has shown yet another employee the door. This particular employee was a trouble-maker martyr type and a Kisser of Bosses' Asses to the nth degree. Still, I feel for the people who are still there. Their workload has practically doubled over the past few months, thanks to the management's inability to get a grip on the firm's structure. Soon, that place will no longer be a boutique, but a shoestring operation. What's next, them moving into a cardboard box and calling it an office?

While those particular bosses weren't inherently evil, they obviously aren't very good at managing their employees and all of the attendant HR issues. Incidentally, the person who got the boot was someone who I feel fairly certain said things behind my back to "encourage" the bosses to let me go first. We all know that what goes around comes around, and hearing that this person got fired made me want to don a lederhosen (see pic above) and do my little Knee Slapping Happy Dance of Glee.

Couple more tidbits: A former co-worker of mine from my earliest days in real estate tried, in vain, to bring me back into the industry. While money is money and I am generally willing to listen to potential job offers, I felt strongly that it's better for me to continue moving forward, not back.

Which is why I almost laughed out loud when I got a call from that horrible recruiter who found normal resume gaps (i.e., post college and post-grad school) to be so offensive to her rigid sensibilities. She'd no doubt be horrified that I've accumulated yet another resume gap, and am now working in a different industry entirely. She'd have a conniption if she knew I dared take some time off, traveled to another country for a spell, and generally enjoyed life free of office politics bullshit.

Yes, there is life outside of cubicle land, and I'm living it again now. Someone else can have the last word. I'll take having the last laugh any day.

I Swear I Said this Before/So Much for the American Dream

A few years back, during the real estate boom, I remember wondering aloud how all of a sudden anyone with a pulse (and perhaps some without one) could get a mortgage. Like my dog (if I had one), could have qualified back then. It didn't seem right at the time, and now we're finding out exactly how wrong and illusory it all was.

I'm no economic expert, but it seems that it's past time for millions of people to start re-thinking the American Dream. What the hell is that supposed to be, anyway? People in the real estate industry would like you to think it's owning your own home. I have news for you, folks. Until the last note one your house has cleared, the bank owns it, and probably not even the same bank you financed it with in the first place.

I read a horrifying story in the paper the other day of a man who'd "owned" his home for close to 20 years. Never missed a payment. Then he ran into a rough patch financially, got a shady, adjustable rate re-fi, and ultimately lost the home to foreclosure.

American Dream? Or American Nightmare? Which is it?

Seeing a Different Side of Someone

So remember that landlord I blogged about a few weeks back? The Venter?

Well, let's make a long story short and say he and I are no longer working together. He initiated it. I was mostly relieved, except for the fact that I didn't just pull the plug myself. Kind of like any bad breakup that both parties know is inevitable.

It's funny. We did a lot of deals together over several years. We both made a good amount of money. Yet when things suddenly took a natural turn for the worse (thank this tanking economy and other factors beyond my control, or his control, for that matter), he became so utterly nasty towards me. It was as if every good piece of work we'd put together over the years meant nothing.

And I guess maybe it did mean nothing to him. The whole "You're only as good as your last deal" philosophy.

Right now I'm still a bit hurt, and think he's acted like a real jerk, and unrealistic to boot. I wish him good luck on renting out those over-priced, unrenovated spaces. Bleh!

Maybe someday I'll be able to look back and fondly remember the good times. I'm both happy that this is finally over, and yet very sad that I had to see that other side of him. He showed me a very different face. One I wish I'd never seen.

The Karma Wheel

It is one thing to say you're a big believer in karma, and quite another to act as if.

There was a little karmic test put to me a few days ago, and from what I can tell, I passed.

A long-time business associate offered me a listing, but wanted me to cut out my brokerage and pocket the entire commission myself. Well, the what was left of the commission after Business Associate took a generous kickback/finder's fee.

As tempting as it was, all I could think was how, unlike some of my past day job employers, this brokerage had generally treated me fairly. My stomach turned when contemplating how I'd feel if in their shoes and being screwed over by a trusted agent, and how what goes around truly comes around. Just thinking about it was stressful. In situations like this, I do my best to trust my instincts, and my instinct said "No" quite loudly. Problem solved.

So I turned down the opportunity, knowing that hundreds of other brokers would jump at such a chance. They'd see it as a "break" in their careers or as easy money. I don't see things that way. Maybe that's why I'm not climbing some corporate ladder, or why the job of cutthroat CEO isn't in my future. I don't really care. To sleep at night in peace means a lot more to me than some shady deal.

Buy Karma Police stickers here: http://www.goodkarmafactory.com

When Someone is Resentful of the Money You Make

Okay, loss of dayjob aside, I still do real estate work, representing some properties and clients. This entire week one of the landlords I work with has been in the foulest of moods. This person is occasionally prone to tempermental outbursts, but generally comes around to logic once he's done venting. This week it's entirely different. He's decided to stay angry, and there's little I can do but allow him to vent at me. Which, as you can imagine, is tons of fun. Yelling, fussing, cajoling, lecturing and hectoring. Nasty and/or terse emails. Rambling voicemails. I just adore this.

It's a trickle down thing. For various reasons, the owner of the building has put restrictions on the properties, which The Venter must enforce. Those restrictions trickle down to me, the broker, and hinder my ability to close a deal as quickly as they want. Those restrictions sometimes turn off other brokers and clients. And of course, I promptly get blamed for any and all lack of deals on the properties, even though the restrictions the others have set up have a lot to do with us not getting deals done in the first place. Follow?

Add to the mix the overall softening of the economy and the not-so-great condition of the properties, and the fact that they are currently over-priced, and you have a recipe for threats like the following:

"Well, if all you're going to do to market the property is XYZ, then what the hell do I need you for? It's like I'm paying you guys to do nothing."

Which is, of course, utter bullshit. We are following the same procedures we've always followed in marketing these properties and also trying new angles, but unfortunately things aren't moving as quickly now as in the past. Which leads the Venter to panic and take it out on me.

Every commission we make, we EARN, dammit. I don't appreciate someone alluding to my work and commissions earned as lacking value or worse, bordering on theft. Screw that! For every deal we close, I'd bet my last dime that there have been five to ten that didn't work out. So even if a given deal appears "easy," in the overall scheme of things, it wasn't as easy as anyone thinks.

That's the thing. Brokers can make decent money, and sometimes other parties get resentful of it. Examples: Attorneys at closings. Landlords paying out commercial commissions. Sellers paying out commissions. Renters forking over broker's fees. Sometimes it appears to them that we did little to earn a lot.

The Venter seems to have calmed down for now, but if it comes down to it, I'm ready to fire him. After all, brokers are a dime a dozen, and he thinks he has me by the balls because of that simple fact. He thinks that just because he can take my company off of the listing at any moment, he can push me around. But that's not entirely true. With all the crap I've been through in my work life these past few years, walking away from people who treat me badly has become comically easy.

Further, I will not allow anyone to give the money I earn fairly and squarely any sort of evil eye/juju/bad vibes. It'd be different (and warranted) if I were some sort of thief or scam artist. That not being the case, then anyone who resents my money can put a sock in their piehole.

A Broker's Life: Pros and Cons

I've been thinking a lot about work. The nature of work, the sacrifices and tradeoffs. I refuse to be defined by my job, and perhaps that's been my professional downfall. I just think that I am so much more than simply That Broker or That Writer or more generically, That Worker.

Indeed, That Broker's just a very small part of who I am in my entirety, and maybe that's the issue. It's my flippin' job, not ME. I'm just not one of those people who eats, sleeps, breathes, dreams, and lives real estate. Trust me, I tried that for about two years, and I began to really hate the woman that little experiment was turning me into. Underweight, overworked, physically weak, angry as hell, and with irritated skin from the constant stress. Not a pretty picture, on any level. So I stopped "brokering," and attempted to find a middle ground. The plan was to trade some of the freedoms and pains of being a broker for the stability and drudgery of a more office-based job--one that still drew on my real estate skills and knowledge.

This work scenario reminded me of how much a company gets to tell its workers, on some level, who they are for those hours they are there on the job each day, and to some extent, who they are outside of the job. I mean, Eliot Spitzer clearly liked sex with hookers in his spare time, but the State of New York begged to differ. Eliot aside, those hours add up to years of our lives, yet outside of independent wealth or abject poverty, what choices do we have? Of course, one could start one's own company and set the tone, culture, but that's a whole different discussion. . .one I haven't the energy for at the moment.

So since I'm feeling contemplative but perhaps a bit de-motivated, it's not a bad idea to reflect back on the pros and cons of my broker life.

As a broker, the pros were:

1. Almost complete control over my schedule. If I didn't want to show a place before, say 10 a.m., I didn't have to. Hitting the gym at 3 p.m. in the afternoon? Check. A long lunch every now and then without fear of retribution? Doable.

2. Being able to run around town during the work day and feel a part of things, rather than sitting on my ass in an office, feeling cut off from life until the clock rolled to the quitting hour. Office work really drained me in ways I never expected--the above chief among them.

3. My firm was very liberal on dress code. I got to wear pretty much whatever I could get by with. Of course, some firms have a very corporate dress code, but not mine.

4. The feeling that I could be more of myself on the job. Over the years, I met so many brokers from so many different areas of life. As a broker, you kinda feel like you can be who you are, yet still work in a professional capacity. Most brokers I know had or have thriving careers in other fields. They're not one-dimensional, in other words.

5. Want a long vacation? Just get your business covered and no one can tell you no. I never had to ask permission to go away on a trip, put in for vacay time...none of that nonsense. I simply made sure my listings and clients were being taken care of, usually by a trustworthy colleague, and went. (Cue fond memories of a week on the West Coast during August one summer). . .

The cons, however, were many:

1. People expect you to work every day and be constantly available, even when "off" duty. In fact, Off Duty status for brokers doesn't seem to exist in most people's minds. Bosses would have to hold their tongues if you went away for a week or three, but they'd bitch and moan, cajole and threaten if you consistently took off even one day a week. Or even appeared to do so.

2. Other brokers. Sure, I met some cool ones along the way, but I also met many annoying, boundary-less, mouth-breathing, clueless jerks. And pushy? I can talk to you about PUSHY. And about obnoxious, too. Ugh!!!

3. Unstable income and overall economic instability. Those long vacations weren't so doable when my rent from one month to the next was constantly in question. And it often was.

4. The running around...in general I enjoyed the active part of the job, but sometimes people would run you around town and simply waste your time. That used to piss me off...the inordinate amount of wasted time. I'd do what I could to minimize it, but often in vain.

5. People thinking you're rich. . .when you're not.

6. Taxes.

7. There are NO easy deals and you practically bleed for every paycheck. This is something I didn't want to believe initially, but I was proven wrong time and again.

8. Annoying clients. And their kids. And dogs. And. . .

9. My favorite: getting screwed over. Happened weekly. Sometimes daily. You really see people at their best and worst moments when it comes to real estate transactions.

So clearly, a mixed bag. In all honesty, I might still be pursuing the full-time broker avenue if I felt it could ultimately pay off. For whatever reason, it didn't for me. So I went the "day job" route and eventually got canned--that and other negatives were perhaps signs that I'm really not cut out to work for someone, at least not in a traditional office setting. The entrepreneurial aspects of being a broker were enjoyable and suited me in many ways, but the instability rattled me. The drudgery, politics, and controlling nature of office life were soul-sucking, but that steady, almost healthy paycheck was very nice indeed.

What to make of all of this? Now that I'm back to square numero uno, trying to put it all together and am finally able to think of it all objectively, I do find it oddly freeing.