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I was speaking with someone from another company who was trying to recruit me. He asked me how long I'd been in the real estate business.
"Almost two-and-a-half years," I replied.
"Wow, that's a long time. You know in real estate, they say every year counts double."
Kind of like dog years? (I think it but don't say it, though I'm sure he would not have minded).
This is the first I've heard of such a concept. But it makes sense. You work six or seven days a week, so right there you are putting approximately 50 to 100 extra days (or half-days, at least) on the job, assuming you work 50 weeks a year. Odds are good you work 51 or even 52 weeks out of the year, but I digress.
My boss has been known to make disapproving comments at those taking off on, say, New Year's Eve. Government holidays such as MLK, President's Day, or Columbus Day? Forget having those off. That's when you're supposed to be even more available, because people are theoretically using the extra day off to look for apartments. I find people generally don't do the apartment hunt on July 4, Memorial, or Labor Days. Thank the Lord for small miracles.
Speaking of the Lord, I'm not a religious person, but I've come to appreciate the Jewish holidays, because the real estate biz really slows down during that time. Even if you aren't observing anything, it's nice to have a lull every now and then.
So yes, real estate has a way of creeping into every day of your life. People will call you when you're off, or late at night because they think it's okay. Holidays, nights, and weekends don't belong to you 100%. Ever.
Even in your off time, people want to talk shop, want real estate market predictions, etc. They seem to think I have a crystal ball and can predict the future. If that were true, do you really think I'd be doing this for a living? Now I think I sort of understand what doctors and lawyers must feel like. But at least they're paid decently.
For what I'm putting up with and considering what I'm giving up, I should be making triple what I'm currently making.
I was reading a New York Times article on what it's like to be an American living in Shanghai. The role the real estate agent took in the whole relocation process really struck me.
And I quote:
The first order of business was to find a place to live. I had researched brokers on the Web and called one when we arrived. She came right over with a van and took us on a tour of the city. Rental brokers in Shanghai, it seems, are your hosts and hostesses. Not only do they find you lodging but they introduce you to the city, serve as advisers and translators, and continue to look after you and your every need for the duration of your lease.
Wow, just wow. My clients are lucky to get a photocopied sheet of paper with their super's number scribbled on it and a list of who to call to get their utilities hooked up. Assuming, of course, I don't forget to hand off this all-important document at the lease signing.
This part about killed me:
WHEN you rent a place in Shanghai, the landlord gives you presents. This is a terrific shock for a New Yorker. My agent told me I could ask for special furniture, TVs, gym memberships — the landlady would actually take me shopping.
Can you imagine this sort of thing in New York? Hell, if anything, it's landlords who want their asses kissed and palms greased after the lease is signed or a sale completed. A bottle of wine or a gift basket? Perhaps, but usually it's the agent who provides such a gift to the client, or, in some cases, the owner. Often, the owner gets a nice present from the agent in the form of a fat kickback. "Listings fees" or "referral fees," they're called.
Well, China might not have all of the comforts of the developed world, at least not yet, but it seems they conduct real estate transactions in a much more civilized and humane manner than we'd ever consider here in New York.
I passed the brokers test. I may have to find a new place to park my license since the boss didn't seem to take the news of my being offered another job very well. For some reason, I can't log onto my work email account. I wonder why?
What is it like to work on a salary? I've almost forgotten. Seriously, it's been years since I punched a clock, had real benefits, paid vacation, or knew precisely how much money I made per paycheck. Initially, I didn't intend to live this way. It was just damn hard finding a decent job in my original field of work, or any other, for that matter. Real estate was a fallback job, and I never expected to get so used to being able to work my own hours (which turned out to be 7 days a week most weeks), make my own schedule (which included people calling me at all hours), and be responsible for witholding my own taxes. (Hint: it pays to put money back for taxes, but no agent I know actually does this).
The whole "flexibility" thing isn't as great as it sounds. What good is making your own schedule when you're constantly on call? What is the benefit of theoretically being able to take extended time off when doing so could wreck your cashflow? Other agents will practically try to steal your business from you out from under your nose when you're present. If they get wind that you're on leave, fuggedaboutit. (Luckily, the agents in my office are not like this. We're the rare realty firm that works as a team and we don't try to screw one another over. The screwing over, or attempted screwing over, happens mostly in the field, by other asshole agents at asshole firms).
At any rate, the realtor's life is one of constantly being on edge. On edge that you're going to miss that million-dollar client because you slept in for an hour or dared take a day at the beach (Indeed, a weekend in the Hamptons once cost me a deal I'd been working on for a few weeks. This after having zero weekends off for well over a year. The one weekend I took off was the one where the people found another apartment on their own). On edge that another broker's gonna screw you over, or that a client will disappear on you. I could go on, but it'd just depress me.
As for the salaried life, I may yet get a chance to find out, if this job interview I have in a few days turns into more than a polite chat with me sweating it out while wearing the female equivalent of a "monkey suit." I don't want to say too much, but it's at times like these that keeping this blog "anon" seems like a smart decision. A few people have encouraged me to "pimp my blog" and link it up, etc. It's not time for that. Yet.
As for the broker's course--well, I finished it, took the test at the state building downtown, and am still waiting to hear if I passed or not. I feel fairly confident that I did pass, so if I flunk it'll be muy embarrassing. I'm not 100% sure what I'm going to actually do with said broker's license (that should be obvious from the previous paragraph of this post), but feel that having it is better than not. Especially considering that next year they're requiring 75 hours of course time. To hell with that noise! It was worth getting over with.
The 75 hour thing is nonsense. We got out of class early every freakin' session. It was obvious they were struggling to fill the time alloted. One instructor even said they were scrambling to figure out what to teach in a 75 hour brokers course, because they barely had enough material to teach now.
My vote is for them to talk more about real life scenarios, not stupid arcane legal terms that we'll never see again. There are so many things that I don't know, even after taking the course. But at least I'm smart enough to have a network of resources--both people and references--to turn to when I don't know an answer. People who know much less than me become brokers and open up their own companies every day. That, my friends, should scare you.
