It’s 10:30 p.m., do you know where your realtor is? I don’t either. In fact, I haven’t seen this dude, or heard from him for that matter, in over 24 hours. Normally, this would not be an issue. I clearly cannot keep tabs on everyone’s realtor. I would, however, like to get ahold of this particular one at some point.
It all started on a crisp autumn evening. It was actually just two days ago. My client had sent me a home that she was very interested in seeing. It was the right location, the right price, and, from the pictures, it looked like the right layout as well. I texted the list agent to see if I could show it. He texted a door code for the front door. No worries — all was well in Zion.
Our appointment was scheduled for 6:30 that evening. I had asked for an hour to show it just in case my client was late, since she was coming from Salt Lake and the listing was in Ogden. As it turned out, it was a good thing. That was the evening of the 1-15 shutdown.
I would explain what a disaster the shutting down of 1-15 turned out to be during rush hour, however, you would have to live under a rock not to have been a witness to the fallout from that debacle. It was a foreshadowing of what was to come.
My client arrived at 7:30 p.m. She had been informing me of her progress along the way, so I knew she was close. Incidentally, just as I exited my vehicle to get the door open and turn on all the lights, I noticed a large truck and trailer pull away from the curb across the street. Not thinking anything about it, I approached the door and put in the code, to no avail. I tried it again. Nothing. And a third time — nothing again. I texted the list agent and asked if I had the correct code. No response. I called him. Thankfully, he answered the phone. I told him the code wasn’t working. He told it to me again, only this time, it was a different code then what he had texted me earlier. Oh well, no harm done. I opened the door. As I walked in, I heard a TV blaring in the family room. I knocked and called out. No one answered. I walked around and turned on lights, noticing that, sure enough, the TV was on and The Nature Channel was in the midst of a loud, yet soothing narration concerning the plight of the African rodent.
After turning on the lights, I received another text from my client. They were lost. As I began to describe the landmarks around the area to look for, I heard the door open. I called out, “Oh, good! You found it!” Yet when I turned the corner, it wasn’t my client.
“Oh, hi. I’m just waiting for my client. Are you showing the home too?”
“No,” he replied.
“Are you the owner?”
“Yes, I am,” he replied.
“Did you know we were coming?”
“No. But it’s OK. I was just moving my truck and trailer around back and saw the lights on.”
Oh, dear. As it turns out, he was cool, my client arrived safely, he took a walk, and I showed the home. My client loved it and was anxious to write an offer. I hurried back to my office, we wrote up the offer and I sent it to the agent. It was late, so I just texted him and told him it had been sent.
The next morning, I still hadn’t received a response. I called, left a message and texted again. By noon, still no response. I called, texted and emailed. I followed that protocol three more times throughout the day with no response. At 9 p.m., exactly the response deadline we had written in the contract, he called. “I think I missed a call from this number.” I wanted to respond with, “I think you’ve missed a lot of things,” but I held my tongue.
Two days later, I’m still awaiting his call for a response to the counter. Sometimes it is good to check in regularly with your realtor.
Jen Kirchhoefer is an associate broker and Realtor. She can be reached at 801-645-2134 or firstname.lastname@example.org