Misery Loves Real Estate

Every Wednesday night I tune into Million Dollar listing on Bravo . It’s fun, mindless entertainment. However, because I’m in the business, occasionally I find myself feeling stressed out for the three key players (OK. Louise not so much but for the other two).

For example, on last Wednesday’s episode, Fredrik wed his longtime beau on a private island. While this should have been a blissful time for them, Frederik succumbed to the pressures of trying to sell out his exclusive building, 250 Bowery for record prices. When his fiancee demanded that he put his phone away for the long weekend, I actually started to feel nervous and agitated (which I know is ridiculous) but when you are a real estate agent your smart phone is your first love.   It’s the gadget that’s essential to our livelihood.   So, needless to say,  when the fiancee flung it into the ocean, I actually felt my blood pressure rise. I might’ve even started to sweat.  In the end they celebrated a beautiful wedding, but wouldn’t it have been nice, just for that one weekend, for Frederik not to be the self proclaimed listing machine that he is and just thoroughly enjoy life uninterrupted? Alas, as Gordon Gekko famously once said:  ”Money is a bitch that never sleeps”!

Back in New York, Ryan was dealing with his own set of problems when he agreed to co-list a high-end property for sale with an inexperienced agent.  While he invested his time, money and resources to market the property, his co-agent spent her time fixing her hair and doing her make-up. It all came to a screeching halt when Ryan brought a buyer to the apartment and discovered it full of beds, towels and bathrobe-clad mannequins. Unbeknownst to him, his batty partner had leased it out to a home furnishings company which ultimately led to his firing himself from the listing.

Every now and then we find ourselves in situations like these where we finally have to admit that it’s just not worth it. Whether it’s the pressure of selling out a building, dealing with a difficult client or agent,  when your health and quality of life are suffering then it’s probably time to walk away.

I’ve had a few experiences like these and that episode got me thinking of one in particular…

A few years ago an agent friend from another firm asked me to help her co-list a two bedroom condo that she was having difficulty selling. The apartment was purchased by a wealthy real-estate mogul for his wife (we’ll call Shelly) as a hobby. See, Shelly fancied herself an interior decorator and as soon as she got the keys, wasted no time garnishing it with the gaudiest wall paper, paint, furniture and “fine art”. From ceiling to floor, not one inch of the poor apartment was spared from her fatuous touch. (Think giving a blank sheet of paper and a box of crayons to a 3 year old. The outcome would probably be more attractive then the apartment was). Once Shelly had completed her “master-piece” it was time to sell and move on to her next project. The catch was that she wanted to sell the apartment fully furnished with all the trimmings for 700k over what the price should be!

Never one to back away from a challenge, I agreed.

I spent hundreds of dollars having the apartment re-photographed, on new marketing material and countless hours hosting open houses. When it was clear we weren’t getting any takers, I recommended selling some of the more valuable art and furniture separately and lowering the asking price. Shelly agreed that this was a smart idea so I contacted a gentleman we’ll call Steve from a prominent Soho gallery specializing in the works of Paul Evans, the supposed creator of the precious art.  Steve was eager to see the treasure trove of this artist’s items displayed in the apartment so we made an appointment to meet there the next day. You can imagine his and our disappointment when he gently informed us that none of the pieces were real, rather very good (and probably quite expensive) replicas’ of Paul Evan’s work.

When we delicately broke this news to Shelly she was incensed. Not that she had been ripped off (or caught telling people she owned genuine Paul Evans pieces) but at us and the art dealer. Clearly he must be mistaken! In the end, she refused to drop the price and I politely removed myself from the listing.