Business Had Been Slow, But One Day This Dame Walks In And Hands Me One Of My Biggest Cases . . .

The New York Press doesn’t do much to make you think that real estate brokers don’t deserve to be ripped off:

They were understandably deflated. We were walking to Astor place having the usual, “call us if anything exceptional or perfect comes up” conversation, when I noticed a strange and peculiar look come over them.

I had heard about this before: rental dementia. Tired, beaten and finally worn out by the process, they had seen enough and were willing to accept how little they would get for their money. During this “phase” you could rent them almost anything.

I had to think quickly: The shock can apparently wear off, and this is how most people come to live in Jersey City, or on Roosevelt Island.

I mentioned a spot I knew of on Lexington and 26th. It wasn’t even a three bedroom, but rather a really big two bedroom that they could convert. Originally, they were adamant about living below 14th and having three bedrooms. We were already on the 6 train headed to 23rd when it started to wear off — like drunks who had passed out in the bathroom and then belligerently demanded to know how they got there.

“Does it get good light?” they asked. I’d say, “It has a few windows.” “How many bathrooms?” “Yes,” I’d say, and then shake my head in confusion. “Can we put a wall up?” “It already has some walls, why not?”

The door to the questionable apartment opened. I let them go in first. It’s the moment you wait for in this business. You see the crazy look in their eye almost immediately, and you know they want it. It makes all the wasted and frustrated time worth it. More than just liking it, they were worried that somehow they wouldn’t get it. When they were this excited and nervous, you knew there would be no stalling or negotiating with the fee. I’d whack them for 15 percent without even a discussion.

It took them less than two minutes to decide they’d take it, and another 20 to decide where the wall would go and who would get what bedroom. They faxed applications that afternoon and signed leases less than a week later. I had to split the commission with the listing broker, which really hurt because he never even showed up (the doorman had let us in).

One split with the listing broker, another split with my broker, and I walked away with $1,400. I’d get to keep my apartment for yet another month. I’d also bought myself another month in the real estate game.

See also: What Would Randy Cohen Do?