Keeping It Realtor

Dear Real Estate Agent Who Has Been Charged With Selling The House In Which I've Lived For The Last Two Years (And Who Is A Man),

I would like for you to know that I own a set of days of the week knickers. I'm not telling you this piece of information to excite you; rather, I feel you need to realize that this means I will automatically know if a pair has gone missing from my underwear drawer. It's just mathematics. So the next time you decide to let yourself into my apartment in the middle of the day when I'm at work WITHOUT LETTING ME KNOW that you'll be doing so, I'll have the police knocking on your front door the minute I can't find the Freaky Fridays.

Also, here's a tip. Actually, here's two. If you're going to come into my apartment in the middle of the day without asking my permission first---even though we talked extensively that morning about the landlord selling the house, and you never mentioned the fact that you'd be coming into my apartment in the middle of the day without asking my permission first---maybe you'd like to think twice about sticking your business card and a magnetic notepad emblazoned with your name and picture onto my refrigerator while you're there. Because those things weren't stuck onto the refrigerator when I left the house in the morning. And if they're stuck onto the refrigerator when I get home from work in the evening, I'm going to have a few questions about where they came from. And guess who I'm going to call? Why, I'm probably going to call the person whose face is all over the business card and magnetic notepad that are now mysteriously stuck onto my refrigerator. Dude, it's called evidence. If you want to be sneaking into people's houses while they're at work without telling them, MAYBE DON'T LEAVE ANY.

(Also, when I call you and ask you why you were in my apartment in the middle of the day without first asking my permission? Don't say "well, I was only in there five minutes!" And especially? Don't say "Come on, I just needed to take some pictures!")

And here's a thought: while you're not doing things for me, maybe you could also not lock me out next time---YES, LOCK ME OUT OF MY OWN HOUSE!---so that when I get home from a hard day's work, I have to balance a six-foot ladder on the rickety porch steps at the back of the house, hoist myself onto the very top step of the ladder---you know, the one that says "Danger! Don't Use As A Step!"---then climb onto my window ledge and balance precariously three stories off the ground, while simultaneously trying to push the screen up and hold the cats back, so that I can then wiggle head-first into my kitchen, landing on the floor on my hands and knees. WHILE WEARING A SKIRT AND HEELS. Also, maybe you could now apologize to my mother for sending her into cardiac arrest.

Thank you. I'd appreciate it, you know? It's just the little things like that which will make this whole transition smoother, I think. Also, when you've got a second, we totally need to discuss your aftershave---as in "toning down the application of." But I guess I can wait on that one. You've got enough to think about today.

All best,

P.S.: You totally spelled your name wrong on the garish red "FOR SALE" sign outside the house. Good thing I had one of those magnetic notepads on my fridge so that I noticed the mistake, right?
P.P.S: Want to buy an ad on my site?

May 03, 2006

The entire time I was reading this Letter to the Realtor, I was imagining she was a woman, and was quite surprised that she was wearing aftershave.

Nothing But Bonfires
May 03, 2006

Ah, I have remedied that. God, if it was a female realtor, I wouldn't care about the underwear drawer, but I'd be taking the hot pink Kitchenaid mixer with me to work every day, that's for sure.

May 03, 2006

oh holy maird, I'd have died.

May 03, 2006

This person endangered your lovely neck by his own negligence?

This person forced you to show your day-of-the-week knickers while crawling headfirst into the kitchen?

This person blighted your tasteful household with a magnetic notepad?

This person had the temerity to make a spelling mistake in your vicinity?

Well, this person had better blooming well NOT touch your else, and I think we're all agreed here Internet, we're all on the next plane there to sort him out in person.

(Coincidentally, I once had to ID my own knickers at a police station.

Yep turns out this guy who was stalking me had got into my house and ransacked my knicker drawer. It's quite bizarre to see your undies as evidence. I trust you never have this experience)

Vaguely Urban
May 03, 2006

Two words: booby traps

May 03, 2006

Dude, you're like MacGyver in a dress! Geez, I can't believe he said "I was only there 5 minutes; I just needed to take some pictures!" Aren't you glad you aren't married to that overaftershaved boor?

May 03, 2006

There should be a superhero theme song playing in the background when this page loads... that realtor man has no idea who he's a'messin' with!

Oh, and was the aftershave "old spice?" Men like that all wear the gaudy crap.

May 03, 2006

god, i feel violated on your behalf. that is wrong, wrong, wrong!

May 03, 2006

I say you break into his house and leave spray-painted across his inevitably mirrored ceiling.


May 03, 2006

Pissing myself laughing about both the post and the McGuyver reference. Please add me to the lynch mob should you choose to harass this poor ignorant bastard.

May 03, 2006

this has got to be the funniest friggin thing I have ever read in my entire life!!!!!!!

May 03, 2006

Holly, I totally had a similar experience...except I was naked with my boyfriend in bed when the landlord (with the realtor) let themselves in on a Sunday morning.....NICE...

It went a little something like this...heard the dog bark...thought "gee that's weird, the dog doesn't usually bark for nothing".....thought i heard a noise...but thought again...must be outside...heard said noise again...bark, bark....then thought...FUCK...someone is IN the, it can't 'just in case" I threw on a robe....and walked out of my bedroom....only to find the Realtor, the Landlord AND possible buyers (who I knew...incidentally) my living room.

yea, the realtor did not make a sale on that day.

May 03, 2006

Get a new realtor NOW! This guy is creepy.

May 03, 2006

YUCK. I had the same problem when I moved out of my old apt. and the owner hired a realtor to show it to prospective tenants--most of whom were 20-something Internet boys. The realtor would call about 5 minutes before bringing them over. Once, this happened while I was in my bedroom w/ my boyfriend in a compromising situation. The realtor busted into the apartment and stood outside my door and yelled, "Is it OK to show these guys the bedroom?"

May 03, 2006

Welcome to Hell.

When my apartment was being shown to prospective tenants, I sat in the middle of the fucking living room watching reruns of Beverly Hills 90210 so those people KNEW that they were in my current space and I wasn't happy about a 8am Sunday showing.

Even my friendly, loving, attention-whore cat started hissing at the landlord when she came around with a group of people in tow.

You also might want to call the landlord, because it's technically their responsibility because they hired that Realtor, and you know, that Realtor needs to be LAW ABIDING and such.

May 03, 2006

Horrors! He sounds repulsive and vile and disreputable and ill-mannered and not-a-little-dim, and, uh, smelly. I'm glad you called and gave him what for. (Not that it seems to have shamed him whatsoever -- what next: "But Holly, it's not like I drank all your beer and ate your leftovers! Those cookies were just laying out on the counter!" or "Oh, are knickers off-limits?")

Also? Heels and a skirt up THREE FLIGHTS on a rickety ladder? Holy moly girl, I am impressed.

May 03, 2006

I second the idea of writing "" across the realtor's sign. and while you're at it, write "advertise on" also.

May 03, 2006

I hope the skirt and heels weren't damaged in all the commotion.

May 03, 2006

I was about to write my own realtor-breaking-into-my-home-unannounced-while-I'm-in-my-pajamas horror story, but after reading the comments, it seems like this is a pretty typical occurrence.

However, in the midst of being pissed off that he had stopped my heart at the sound of someone unlocking and opening my door, I was equally annoyed to find out that our 110-pound dog is NOTHING of a watch dog, as she merrily hopped, licked, and wagged around him.

May 03, 2006

Oh no he didn't! Holy hell. That's just... what an idiot!

Thespian Libby
May 03, 2006

It was NOT Old Spice, nor anything so subtle. It was more like Brut or High Karate or English Leather. Bleah.

Nothing But Bonfires
May 03, 2006

I think it was maybe Drakkar Noir. Or, like, the faux version you can buy at CVS.

May 03, 2006

Two words, dear. New. Realtor.

May 03, 2006

If I've learned one thing in my 37 years on this planet, it's to never trust a man with a refrigerator magnet as a business card (and who also smells like Brut.)

Meanwhile...remember those old ads for knock-off colognes that they'd sell at places like CVS? ("If you like CK One, you'll love ONE.") Whatever happened to those?

May 03, 2006

Feel free to call the police. Here in Chicago, the police will arrest a landlord (or a realtor or whoever) for coming into the apartment without 24 hours notice - it's a gross violation of your lease, which I'm sure you know. If you're too friendly with your landlord to want to cause all that trouble, you might want to just threaten to call the police and "let" your landlord talk you out of it. . .

You may also want to call this realtors boss or agency and let them know that their realtor is violating your privacy and breaking the law.

Sorry for the unsolicited advice - I'm just *angry* on your behalf. Stupid inconsiderate self-important realtor asshat.

May 03, 2006

Eeeee-owwww! There will be a special corner reserved in hell for this realtor asshat. (I'm reminded once again how much I love the word ASSHAT. Thanks, EB.) Furthermore, I fucking hate Drakkar Noir. Bad boyfriend, you know. Bleargh.

Would a days-of-the-week knickers joke help? Yes, I know one. It's even clean, sort of. And insulting to Poles. (I am of Polish extraction.)

A girl comes into a shop and asks for seven pairs of knickers, "You know, one for each day of the week!" The next girl, who is French, says she only needs six pairs. Because she doesn't wear knickers on Saturday! Oooh la la!

But the last girl who comes in, a Polish girl, says she needs TWELVE pairs of knickers. Now the shopkeeper is really confused. "Twelve? Why twelve?"

"You know, " she says. "January, February, March, April . . ."

May 03, 2006

Ugh! That is truly despicable, and as someone up there wrote, NOT ALLOWED WITHOUT 24 HOURS NOTICE! When my husband and I put our studio up for rent (as an old tenant is moving out) we absolutely will not show it without the tenants' permission and prior knowledge. We don't come in unless invited, and never would we use our keys to enter someone else's home, despite the fact we own it, unless it were ON FIRE. I would definitely call the realtor and the landlord and advise him that you and the hot pink Kitchen-Aid are watching them!

May 03, 2006 peeve of mine. No, not the magnet or the aftershave or even the B&E. What I can't freaking stand is people who KNOW they are in the wrong, and when you call them on it, they do NOT apologize but make excuses to justify their behavior instead.

Heather B
May 03, 2006

So, what your saying is that your realtor was dropped on his head as a child and is a senseless moron?

May 03, 2006

That was hilarious! I think I would have had one of those moments, though, where you are so mad that you don't think of the good stuff to say until after you get off the phone, then you go around muttering to yourself for the rest of the evening. It then makes you want to call them back and tell them what you should have said in the first place, and your husband tries to distract you so you don't make a fool out of yourself by calling back....Or, is that just me?

May 04, 2006

There's a FAUX Drakkar Noir?