Complaint Box - Thursday

‘We’ve got a complaint.’ Announces assistant manger T before I’ve even closed the office door. I often wonder what the assistant bit is supposed to signify, if he isn’t going to help me.

‘Is it justified?’ I ask, shrugging off my jacket and resisting the urge to head for the sanctuary of my office and shut the door. To be honest the blinds don’t completely meet and they’ve never let me forget that time they spotted I’d nodded off over a slimline sandwich and a cup-of-soup.

‘Are they usually?’ Fires back T with a shrug.

He has a point. People are a lot quicker to complain than they used to be and most of the time, if we’ve done our job properly, it’s a frustration with the buying and selling process rather that a wilful attempt to mislead - or worse.

‘It’s the unsuccessful bidders on Orchard Road.’ Says T wearily. ‘They think they should have got it rather than the other buyers.’

‘They should have offered more then.’ Says negotiator S, joining the conversation. She has been dealing with the successful purchasers and whilst we strive not to show bias or favour, invariably one buyer will be in a better position that another, whether if be financial position, strength of any associated sale and chain they are involved in, or a combination thereof. 

‘They think we’ve discriminated against them.’ Says T flatly.

‘Not in a racial way?’ I say urgently. It’s illegal to favour one buyer over another on race, sexual orientation, disability and….well there must be others…. It’s a shame you don’t have to be qualified to become an estate agent.

‘Nah.’ Replies T dismissively. ‘Unless you count being an obnoxious Yorkshireman as a racial thing.’

It could be. I really don’t need to fall foul of any new legislation I’ve yet to interpret. The sort of well-intentioned, ill thought out law making that brought us the unloved, now defunct, Property Mis-Description Act. A ludicrously lengthy and clunky piece of lawmaking you only knew you’d fallen foul of once the Trading Standards’ pen pusher and the local magistrate, had prosecuted you.

I’m all for tightening up the property industry. I’d gladly see the back of some of the rogue agents who flout rules, cut corners and slash their commission rates below us. But everything has a cost and the powers that be still refuse to enact a minimum entry standard or licensing, for those that sell or let your home.

‘I assume you’ve explained to them it wasn’t our decision as to which buyer to go with, it was the vendors.’ I say to T semi-rhetorically.

‘They just won’t listen.’ Answers T. ‘Wanted to buy it on the cheap, then grizzle when they’ve missed it and now have a dog in the manger attitude by trying to scupper the sale we’ve agreed.’

People - and legislators - still forget we are employed by the sellers to get the best possible price for their property. They pay the bill. Of course, that basic tenet has been undermined over they years by conflicts of interest, particularly if you are arranging the buyers’ finance, or getting a kickback from their conveyancer for an introduction. It’s a murky business.

‘Have they offered any more money?’ I ask T, a migraine building.

‘Not yet.’ Says T with a groan. He knows we must present all offers in writing to the vendors and it can get very messy if a further bidding war develops. Inevitably someone is going to be unhappy.

‘I don’t think they will.’ Says S. ‘They can’t afford it, so it would just be a spoiler bid.’ Part of an agent’s duty of care is to present all offers to our clients, but also to vet the potential purchaser, not just financially but also for money laundering risks and legal status to reside in this country - since the government abdicated responsibility for those tasks…

The next step, if I can’t resolve the complaint amicably, will be the property Ombudsman. The compulsory dispute resolution scheme all selling agents belong to. In reality, most of the problem is down to supply and demand.

Which might, on reflection, be why there’s more than one Ombudsman to choose from….

---------

Still time to nominate your favourite Blog for UK awards......

Just in case, here's the link - http://www.blogawardsuk.co.uk/ukba2016/nominate-a-blog

Window Shopper - Friday

‘Twat alert.’ Announces assistant manager T in a stage whisper. It’s funny how words evolve, when I was a teenager the warning would have meant an entirely different sighting.

‘Where?’ Asks trainee F looking up from the jammed colour printer. If the imbecile can fix it without having to call out the engineer again, my month end profit and loss account will benefit - although it will still show F’s salary costs, so maybe not.

‘Front left window.’ Hisses T, adding. ‘But don’t make it obvious.’ If ever there was a wasted sentence. F turns conspicuously and half a ream of headed paper tumbles to the floor like A4 confetti.

‘The man with the red trousers?’Asks F loudly, as the middle aged bloke looking in catches his movement and shuffles to the right hand window. The man peers in with one hand raised above his beetle brows.

‘Don’t make it obvious we’re talking about him.’ I hiss as F stoops to begin collecting the paper trail.

‘Do you know him?’ Asks F. ‘He looks a bit of a nutter.’

‘Would you like to narrow it down a bit.’ Contributes negotiator S with an alluring giggle.

‘Yep,’ agrees T. ‘If we were that selective with punters we’d hardly deal with anyone.’

T has a point. Seemingly sane people are driven to places they never new existed by property - and I don’t just mean taking impoverished first time buyers to see the ex-council flats with lifts that smell of piss.

The stress and uncertainty of moving home can tip the most steady-nerved individuals into Valium- popping nervous wrecks by the time they’ve had a bad survey, failed mortgage offer and two sales fall through on the eve of exchanging contracts. We earn our money, no matter what they say on the Housing Geek forums.

‘He’s a window surfer.’ I say behind cupped hand, as I slyly watch the man with the dodgy fashion sense while he peruses our window display for the umpteenth time.

‘You’ll get to know the regulars.’ Says T knowingly, adding with feeling. ‘And any man who wears red trousers is going to be a first class tosser if you ask me.’

It’s a sweeping statement. One I should challenge. I’ve learned over the years that the most improbable characters can pay prices you’d think they could never afford on first impression, while seemingly reliable buyers turn out to be raving basket cases when signing the contract looms - even so, red trousers… 

‘But surely even the lunatics have to live somewhere?’ Questions F as he shuffles the paper and tries to feed it back into the printer tray. ‘They must have bought at least once.’

F is, for once, spot on. But with demand for homes consistently outstripping supply I decided long ago that, as long as you achieve the right price for your client, selling to a nightmare buyer - who when push comes to shove will probably let you down anyway - isn’t the best option when there are plenty of alternatives.

‘He’s been on the mailing list for about five years.’ Says T with feeling, before adding with a grin. ‘At least he thinks he has.’

‘But…’ begins F as he tries to ram the paper tray shut, with an expensive sounding grinding of gears.

‘But nothing.’ Interjects T. ‘There’s not enough hours in a lifetime, let alone a day, to keep dealing with habitual lookers. Wasters all of them.’

‘He’s right.’ Confirms big mortgage man M as he gallumps across the office. ‘I did a fact find on him once, way back, and he didn’t want any insurance or payment protection…’

The laughter almost reaches the street, despite our plate glass fortifications.

‘What?’ Asks M, hurt look on his chubby features. ‘Payment Protection was appropriate for some people.’

I have to call a halt on the merriment when I feel a rib about to pop.

‘You can laugh.’ Sulks M. ‘But you all had your introducers’ commission out of those policies I wrote.’ The truth hurts.

‘He’s going thank God.’ Mutters T as the subject of our ire moves on down the high street.

‘Wanker.’ Mimes T.

‘Rate whore.’ Adds M.

‘Twat.’ Says S.

Precisely.

--------

Avoid the red trouser brigade next time you move and read the e-book - links on the right. You know you should....

Speaker's Chair - Tuesday

With a cancelled appointment and hair just beginning to bother the ears, I bowl into the barbers without checking the clientele through the window. Too late, I see there’s a bench full of customers waiting and worse still, one of them is a rival estate agent. Spotting my indecision and not wanting to lose a punter, the owner gives me a smile, worse still remembers my name and beckons me to sit with an optimistic.

‘Wait won’t be long.’

It’s a good skill with the name, one I wish I could master, but I recall properties not people after all this time. The barber knows I don’t like to discuss business when in the chair, not least because he’s tried to move several times over the years and you don’t want to upset a man with a cut-throat razor in his hand and an interest in how much his home has gone up in value in the last twelve months.

The luxuriantly haired oily operator from the opposition outfit shifts up grudgingly and equally reluctantly I park my backside next to him. He’s reading a free copy of The Daily Mail, so his political persuasion is fairly clear. ‘Alright?’ I ask with no interest in the answer, unless his office is about to close.

‘Can’t complain.’ He replies, before adding unnecessarily. ‘On a bit of a roll at the moment actually.’ So he’s a liar as well as being freakishly hirsute.

I check out the other customers. The dusty bloke with three days stubble and workman’s boots is scanning The Sun without any apparent embarrassment, and the hippyish mid-fifties man with grey hair, a goatee and an absurd ponytail, is glued to The Guardian. All political persuasions catered for by the astute owner. Just hope nobody wants to talk property. Fat chance.

‘You short on stock too?’ Asks my rival with the plentiful locks. There was a time when my hair had that sort of lustre and grew thick and dark. Too many sales falling through and too many targets being ramped up annually have taken their toll. Now when I give my instructions to the trimmer it’s, ‘just a tidy up ’ and a hopeful, ‘and leave some length on the top please.’ Not much they can do about the grey and I steadfastly refuse to dye it like those fading lotharios trying to hang on to their second Thai wife.

‘We’re doing okay.’ I fib. It’s a tradition amongst sales people to over-inflate their performance and it’s not about to stop when quizzed in public.

‘You two alright to sit next to each other.’ Jokes the barber as he brushes down his just finished customer and the man tips him more than I usually do. I frown and reconsider any sort of gratuity this time. He remembers my name but not always my preferences.

‘Sorry.’ Says the barber ushering in the man with the ponytail who it turns out only wants his absurd facial hair trimmed. ‘I forgot you estate agents like to keep a low profile out of the office.’ There’s a rustle of papers being folded and the whole shop looks at the pair of us with ill-disguised distaste.

‘Go on then you lot.’ Challenges the Sun reader curtly. ‘Tell us why people like me are priced out of the market.’

‘Market forces mate.’ Says my rival clambering into another just vacated chair and getting the young, well-endowed girl hairdresser all the blokes like to use. Not sure if she means to keep brushing you with her tits when she leans in but she gets good tips, and at the end of the day we’re all selling something – unless you’re a civil servant.

I realise everyone is looking at me, now my rival is occupied with whispering his preferences to the girl.

‘Supply and demand tends to drive the market.’ I venture, adding. ‘That and availability of funding.’

‘Too many bloody immigrants and freeloaders.’ Interjects a well-spoken man clutching on to The Telegraph and an image of a country that no longer exists. The Sun man wades in, the hippy with the trimmed beard adds his opinion and I wish I were bald.

Still itching now.

-----

No short cuts just download the ebook, here:

http://amzn.to/ttGZ4j

US Readers: http://amzn.to/vXpFJf