The Optimists’ Club aka PT Barnum was Right

Seems there are people out there who are still determined to many money in real estate. So says an article in the Sunday NYTimes.

Two words for them: Good luck.

While I admire their drive and ambition, having been there and done that, I can honestly say that the odds are that this young woman will be getting a reality check in her name much sooner than an actual paycheck:

“I’m a very self-sufficient person,” she said. “I did my clothing line because it’s my passion, my creativity, how I express myself. I’m doing real estate for money. To fuel my passion, I need money.”

Ms. Tomas made $47,000 a year at H&M; as an agent, she said, “I’m looking to make twice that, if not more.”

Expectations, however, can be a mismatch with reality.

“I ask them, ‘What are people telling you you’re going to make?’ And they say $250,000 — in their first year!” said Olinda Turturro with a laugh. She is the director of recruiting at Bond New York, a midsize brokerage that employs about 200 sales and rental agents.

Recruiters for brokerage firms say that a new agent can expect to earn about $50,000 a year.

I'd say that $50K in the first year isn't even that realistic. Consider the source: It's a recruiter talking, and $50K sounds like okay money for a first year agent, right? I'd say the reality is more in the $30K range. And this is before taxes.

Several colleagues of mine from the biz would definitely agree, and we're talking hard-working, educated, driven people, not scrubs who stumbled into this line of work because it's easy to get into and less messy than burger flipping.

This is more realistic:

The journey from contract to closing can drag on for months. And even longtime agents may not close any deals for weeks on end.

Kevin Ryan-Young, 45, a former arts administrator and stay-at-home father, closed his first sale in December, six months after starting as an agent at Bond New York. So far, his take has been in the low four figures. “There’s not a lot of money,” he said. This despite working 10 hours a day for six or seven days a week.

His experience is not atypical.

“Someone coming into the biz, who is going to focus on sales from Day 1, should have at least a six-month nest egg, and it would probably be better to have more than that,” said Stephen Love, a longtime broker who directs recruiting at Ardor New York Real Estate.

“I see it happen all the time,” Mr. Love continued. “People come in without enough money behind them. They find themselves in a situation where they become highly anxious and it can be a downward spiral. It affects you mentally. Your bills are coming due every 30 days and you’re not making any money.”

Yes, been there, done that. Luckily I had backup, but even that backup wasn't the sort of thing I liked relying on day to day or month to month. Let me put it to you simply: It's incredibly disheartening to work your ass off seven days a week and see NOTHING. Not a single dollar. And yes, this can and does happen in real estate.

People think they can get into RE and have time to pursue their hobbies, passions, and volunteer to do benevolent things like help homeless pets. However, the most successful agents are constantly on call. The job never really ends. Weekends aren't yours--they belong to customers and brokers who need to see available properties. That wouldn't be so bad, but weekdays aren't yours either, as those same customers and brokers expect agents to be around daily to attend to their needs. Don't believe me, newbie agents? Just try taking a day off and see what happens. The work can become quite all-consuming and exhausting pretty fast.

It's a devil's deal, in my opinion. Perhaps if a person actually makes good money, the tradeoff (your life for money) is worth it. Maybe they can bank the money and eventually pursue other interests and have a real life again. However, the odds are in favor of a lot of hard work and an income that's not in at all in proportion to the work one puts in. In other words, totally suckage for as long as one is willing to put up with it.

Sounds like a whole new batch of rookie brokers are about to learn that hard, soul-sucking lesson. Good luck.

Strange Twist Plus People with Twisted Values

In a strange twist, I heard that one of my former employers is looking for someone to do some writing for them on a freelance basis. Incidentally, the work they are now outsourcing was once a big part of my job. At any rate, I texted my friend who still works there and asked if they could float the idea of me taking on the freelance work by the decision makers and see if it flies. I'm well aware, obviously, that the idea might sink like a mafia hit weighed down with cinder blocks.

I'm also well aware that Former Job's letting me go wasn't pretty and they (the bosses) were kinda wankerish about it. My dignity remained intact, but I got the distinct sense that they felt dirty and low for letting me go the way they did: with zero warning, and trumped up 'complaints' that were all B.S. And yes, if they felt bad, they deserve to. They did things in a somewhat nasty manner. If they had just waited a couple of more months, they could have used the real reason for my axing: the economy.

Instead, I was the canary in the coal mine, as more downsizing came to pass at Former Job in subsequent months.

Anywho, perhaps that guilt will translate into freelance work. Or they might think I'm really pathetic for even floating the idea. My take? It would be super easy money--something I could practically do in my sleep. So I'll risk sticking my neck out there and being rejected. After all, they rejected me once already. What's one more time for old time's sake?

In other news, this Dating a Banker Anonymous blog seems to have the whole world in a tizzy. It's interesting to read about these once high-flying people and what passes for fulfillment in their lives. No wonder so many relationships are unraveling. When money is the glue that keeps you together, things look a lot less tolerable when designer shoes, fancy vacays, and spa days and private Pilates start going the way of the Dodo.

Zero sympathy. Absolutely none.

Link to this douchebaggery right here !

Enjoy!

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.

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