Worst First Impression Ever
Sometimes you just can’t help but laugh at yourself and just hope it all comes out in the end. For example, take last night . . .
It was a cold foggy evening in the valley of Puyallup. I had a listing appointment at 6:30. I arrived at the office at 3PM and started to do my market analysis of the home. I had driven by the home earlier in the day to check out the exterior condition. It looked really nice and I was excited about meeting my prospective new clients later that evening.
By 5:30 I had everything together I needed. I had the market analysis, hard bound with a plastic cover. I had information from the title company. I had short sale information for them (this was going to be a short sale) I had the contracts prepared, I had my marketing presentation together, my shirt was pressed, my tie looked sharp and my sport coat equally as nice. I was READY!
I went out to my car and put everything in and went to grab a quick bite to eat. Unfortunately in these situations, about the only option is the drive thru, so Arby’s it was. A chicken club sandwich, some fries and a drink. I sat in the parking lot and rehearsed what I would be saying to my clients in a few short minutes.
At 6:15 I headed for their home. I pulled into their neighborhood and looked over to my right where I was sure I had put the contracts, market analysis, short sale information, etc. It wasn’t there. I reached behind me to see if I could feel it in the back seat. I couldn’t. Panic started to set in, it was now 6:25. I pulled over, jumped out and searched my car. Nothing was there. CRAP! I called my clients and said “Hey, I apologize, but I left your file back at my office, it’ll take me 15 – 20 minutes and I’ll be back.” They said “No problem, see you when you get here”.
I raced through the fog back to my office. On my way, I distinctly remembered bringing the contracts out of the office. The last place I remembered seeing them was on top of my car as I was hanging up my sport coat. CRAP! I thought, they couldn’t have gone very far on top of the car, they must be in the parking lot. As I arrived in the parking lot, I didn’t see anything. So I ran into the building to check the bathroom, not there. My office, not there. My mailbox, not there. I checked my voicemail to see if anyone had picked them up and taken them with them. No messages. It was now 6:45 and I was in a huge panic.
I started driving back to their house when I saw my notebook in the middle of the road. I stopped to pick it up and noticed the market analysis a little further on. It was missing it’s fancy plastic cover and had a tire tread pattern across the first three pages, but the binding had held and no pages were missing. Thank God for small miracles. I then looked around the corner onto Main Street where I saw a good 100 yards of papers strewn about in the gutter. Sonofabit**! I spent the next 10 minutes picking up fog soaked papers out of the gutter and throwing them in my car, all the while trying to not get hit by passing cars.
I called my clients on the way and left them a message “Hey, I’ve got a funny story to tell you when I get there. And a profuse apology.”
I finally arrived at 7:05, 35 minutes late. First time EVER I’ve been late to a listing appointment. I walk in with my notebook and the market analysis, sans cover. I explain to them what had happened, I think they were sympathetic, but I seriously doubt I’ll be getting the listing. Today I’m dropping off the short sale information they should have gotten last night along with a card that reads:
“Even Michael Jordan had an off night, but he was still the best. Sorry again about last night.”
Sometimes you can’t help but laugh at yourself and pray for the best.