Selling the magic

DEAR real estate agent,

WHAT a fantastic headshot on the For Sale sign out the front. Bigger than the agency logo, no less.

My word, that is a substantial amount of product in your hair. I guess you just got back from your double life modelling for Vanity Fair.

Please sell my house. Preferably, please do so after several open houses where you’ve greeted people as “folks” as they enter.

I am curious about the fuel efficiency of your Audi you have parked in the driveway, with the back wheel holding down one of those open house flag signs.

Your number plates indicate you are into personalising things. I can only assume this will apply to your service as well.

Intriguingly, it would appear you also hold a law degree. The ample confidence offered in how to fill out a contract is extraordinary.

Still, I think I’m going to stick to the advice of my solicitor when it comes to such things as early possession (“No worries champ - we’ll get the keys a few days early for you”), the correct wording of the contract (“I'll just throw in a clause in about wanting to keep the gazebo out the back. Don’t sweat it, big fella”) and other pesky details such as the spelling of the buyers’ last name (“Ahh, we all know who I mean, right?”).

But that is merely one of the many skills you seem to possess. Landscaping, building, pool maintenance, finance approval, family planning and even electrical engineering all apparently appear on your resume.

How on earth do you find time to hit the gym as well as being snapped in the local social pages?

I fear for your safety when showing clients the pool. Walking that close to the edge with such pointy leather shoes requires great balance.

A slight lapse in concentration when putting on your Paris Hilton sunglasses from atop your groomed hair may see you plummet into the “sparkling waters of relaxation”, as the brochure put it, with very little chance of making it back to the surface, what with being weighed down with such ample amounts of jewellery.

The flyer you so kindly placed within my letterbox informing that me that you sold number 10 in the same street, suggested you could “work the same magic” for my own abode. (Add “magician” to that resume.)

What an honour it would be to have my house marketed by you.

No, please, by all means, take the phone call while we are negotiating - your bookmaker might be tied up for the rest of the afternoon so grab his ear while you’ve got it.

Apart from a firm commitment from a buyer, a price near somewhere initially promised and an advertising schedule close to that quoted earlier, this relationship is as good as sold.

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