I’m here →hosting open house for my listing in Fremont, California from 1 pm-4 pm.
My day starts off by getting dressed up to look “professional” while greeting other agents and their clients , as well as the occasional “property investor” aka “Flipper.” My favorite part of holding an open house event is the incredibly friendly and helpful people that have the same goals as I do in the real estate industry. Sometimes, if I’m really, really, lucky someone will come in without representation, and want to purchase my listing for themselves for their primary residence. Which is always my hope, but not always the case.
First, I have to drive around and put out “Open House This Way” signs, on all corners of all major intersections, directing traffic to the property. Great, now I’m sweating and my “professional” hair, just blew into my “professional” face and stuck to my lip gloss. Note to self: don’t wear lip gloss. You look like a middle aged woman, pretending to be younger than she is. Which is fine if I were one, but I am not. I’m totally dressed age appropriate. Don’t ever be something you are not. As in, don’t dress like the grim reaper if you’re really a Hampton housewife going through an identity crisis. (Although, sometimes we mothers and wives may feel like death, it doesn’t mean we need to look it).
I keep a “traffic” log. Who came in, their names, what they are looking for, questions they asked, etc. I feel them out and if I feel that they are the slightest bit interested (which, they should be if they took the time to come here), I will attempt to get their contact information. I say “attempt” because most people guard their contact information from the “realtor” like it’s a stack of bacon and we’re on a deserted island.
If I ever have some “down time” which is highly unlikely, I may try to snack on something (I’m ALWAYS hungry). But, Murphy’s Law gets me on my survival skills every time. As soon as I open up my beef jerky, a potential buyer’s sense of smell increases ten fold and they come walking in. I don’t want them to see me stuffing my face. I quickly hide the evidence of myself being a carnivorous woman. Damn! Don’t they know I’m about to faint? Plus, I have to pee. I swear, I’m locking the door for five minutes after this party leaves.
Well, that didn’t happen. Now, it’s 4pm and I am still alive. The owners came home to a conscious realtor and had a great turn out of interested parties attend their open house. Success!
While browsing Pinterest late at night, when the rest of mi casa’s breathing organisms are sleeping, I came across a bullet journal pin that intrigued…