A day in my old life at the real-estate office, Part I

receptionist in front office talking on phonePhone ring and caller say, “Hey, is property manager there?”

So I say, “No, but I can forward you to her voice mail.”

So caller say, “Yeah, but I really need to talk to her, when is she going to be in?”

So I say, “I don’t know; she’s out doing inspections and move-outs and walkthroughs and postings, so it may be an hour, it may be two hours – it may be the rest of the day.”

So caller say, “Well, I want you to give her a message for me.”

So I say, “Well, I’m not in Property Management; let me just forward you to her voice mail so nothing gets lost in translation.”

So caller say, “No, you’ll write this down: My garage disposal gurgles and makes a weird humming noise when there’s no food in it but when I put food in it, it clanks and grinds and makes an even weirder noise and then it shakes the sink so basically it doesn’t work and I need a guy to take a look at it but he can’t come on Mondays and Tuesdays because I’m off and I sleep in and he can’t come Wednesdays, Thursdays or Fridays because I’m on graveyard and I’m asleep during the day so he’s going to have to come on Saturday but he can only come between nine and ten-thirty, but that’s only if he calls first to make an appointment because I won’t be home so I’ll have to have my neighbor let him in because I don’t want strange people in the house when I’m not there, and I also have a dog that can’t be let outside and he doesn’t bite but I don’t want him getting out because if he gets out I’ll sue the guy and I’ll sue your company and then you’ll be sorry, especially if my dog gets hit by a truck and dies.”

So I say, “That’s a lot to write down; can you give me a minute?”

So caller say, “Well, there’s also a tree blocking my front window and I need a guy to trim the thing and get the roots out of my lawn, and hey the lawn hasn’t been mowed for seventeen weeks so it looks like a cornfield and I’m really pissed because I was told landscaping was included in my lease and that’s what the damn lease says and you guys really aren’t doing your jobs so what gives?”

So I say, “Well, I’m really sorry, but I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m not in Property Management and I don’t have a property-management license or a real-estate license; all I do is answer the phone at the front desk so there’s really nothing I can do but take a message for the property manager and ask her to get back to you.”

So caller say, “Well, the property manager never calls me back and I’ve called fifteen times now and I’m tired of not getting any calls back and I think you jerks need to get your act together and pull your heads out of your asses and figure out what’s going on, because this is nonsense and every time I call you tell me you can’t do anything and I hate you and I think you’re stupid and I hope you get fired, because you do a miserable job and you’re a piece of garbage and I ought to break your kneecaps in the parking lot.”

So I say … well I say nothing because caller slams phone in my ear … then picks up the receiver and slams it again, to make his point.

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24 thoughts on “A day in my old life at the real-estate office, Part I

  1. spartacus2030

    First off, you should lodge a complain with the Police if someone threatens to break your knee caps in the parking lot. Secondly, listening to complaints can be very stressful. This just may not be the job for you. Have you thought of looking for another vocation? Sounds to me like this job will just age you more quickly…

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Allen Post author

      Well, thankfully my kneecaps are intact, and I ended up switching careers. However, I did end up with a few gray hairs that weren’t there before.

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  2. In My Cluttered Attic

    I’m so sorry, Allen, that I took it out on you. But, you answered the phone and I had to give the brunt of my anger to someone who might relay it to the property manager—possibly by quitting the property management office as a statement on my behalf. Thank you for losing your minimum wage job for me, and for being an ethical human-being in the process. Boy, confession is good for the soul! 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Allen Post author

      Oh, so that was you? If I had known, I wouldn’t have put you on hold for 20 minutes with the repeating message that says, “Your call is very important to us … just not important enough for us to actually talk to you.”

      It was a difficult gig to walk away from … which is why I jumped in my car and drove away from it as fast as I could.

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      1. In My Cluttered Attic

        LOL! I should have known that my phone call wasn’t going to be taken all that seriously by you, Allen. I mean, after that message played for 20minutes, then the song…”Grandma Got Ran Over By a Reindeer” played non-stop for the next hour! I guess that meant you ran over one while making your hasty exit. 😀

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Allen Post author

        In my mad dash to escape that horrible place, I left my swivel chair spinning. And in the process, Grandma not only got run over my a reindeer — she’s now a spot on Santa’s sleigh.

        Which is depressing — especially because Santa billed my insurance. Apparently, the impact tore one of the sleigh’s skis off.

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      3. In My Cluttered Attic

        Santa’s body shop “North Pole Body” will probably knock out that dent, repaint that spot, and replace that skis in 30 minutes or less and all for $19.95 Then your insurance company will likely drop you like a bad habit. Worse, you’ll no doubt make the naughty list for sure this year. That can’t end well. Plus, I bet your not going to get that Lexus you were hoping for this Christmas. In hindsight, I guess I shouldn’t have been so hard on you by sending that letter off to the North Pole exposing your office to Santa. 😀

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Allen Post author

        I keep asking for a Lexus, and every year I get a stocking filled with reindeer droppings.

        Either Santa’s trying to tell me something, or my house is the first stop after Taco Bell.

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  3. Musings from a Tangled Mind

    Those are the types of messages you take down with your imaginary pen and paper and if the caller asks your name…well, you give him the name of the incredibly obnoxious guy who always steals lunches out of the fridge and sits two cubicles over from yours. 😀

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Allen Post author

      I love that approach. The only hiccup was that — according to the rest of the office — I was the incredibly obnoxious guy.

      Not that I stole lunches from the company fridge. (But only because it was a mini-fridge, and all it contained was a Slim Fast and a ketchup bottle from 2002.)

      Liked by 1 person

  4. BunKaryudo

    I was a bit worried when I read the title of this post because I could guess what kind of terrifying horror story might follow. Imagine my relief when you started with one of the more reasonable callers.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Allen Post author

        Well, in real-estate-office years, three days is the equivalent of a month in the hole. When I escaped (er, quit, I mean), I was singing a rousing rendition of “Take This Jon and Shove It!”

        Liked by 1 person

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