Ben’s Property Blog
Pleased to meet you, Mr Jones!
You know the day’s not going to turn out well when you get toothpaste on your tie and snap your shoelace before you’ve even left the house! I’ve got an 8.30am property appraisal on a house on the south side of Bridgwater. I’ve prepared my valuation evidence, collated a body of comparable properties, and my ‘presenter’ is laden with slick company brochures. This guy would be ‘nuts’ not to choose me to sell his house – what could possibly go wrong?!
Having briefly called in to the High Street first thing, I leave the office with a spring in my step – the temporary shoelace is holding nicely, the toothpaste stain is barely visible and I’m feeling confident. As I pull up outside the house, I’m a polite 2 minutes early – it may seem like a ritual, but I always aim for ‘2 minutes early’. I know my guy’s working from home today, but he certainly won’t thank me for keeping him waiting.
The rain’s held off, so hopefully he’ll be happy for me to keep my shoes on in the house – I always ask if the client would like me to remove them, but secretly, I’m willing them to say ‘no’. As I get out of the car, I catch a glimpse of him sizing me up from behind the lounge curtain. He’s impressed by my punctuality – my recently waxed car’s not been lost on him either!
I brush down my pin stripe suit as I walk up the drive and position myself at the entrance to the house. As he opens the front door, an expanse of polished oak flooring is revealed – this guy’s got class! At least he’s got a loose mat to wipe my feet, my socks surely won’t be getting an outing at this appointment.
Good Morning Mr Jones, I’m Ben and I’m here to appraise your home, would you like me to remove my shoes?” “Morning Ben – no, don’t worry about that, as long as you wipe your feet, that’s fine”. Result! I’m liking this guy already. As I step into the hallway, I lean down to place my brief case on the floor, whilst offering my hand to formally greet my host. Now, this is the moment it all goes horribly wrong. As I grasp the hand of Mr Jones, I’m still vigorously wiping my feet on the mat which is positioned on the shiny oak flooring. Now, I know that you’re already there in your mind, but actually, no, it’s far worse than that, because as I lose my footing on the mat, I’m still firmly attached to Mr Jones (my firm handshake is a very proud hallmark!) and as the scene plays out in slow motion and I fall onto my backside, Mr Jones, unable to extricate himself from my vice-like grip, also loses his balance and falls squarely on top of me, showing scant regard for my personal space. Now the manner in which we get back up on our feet is hazy to say the least, but as we eventually establish some decorum and I straighten my tie, I do remember being comforted by the reassuring knowledge that following the incident earlier that morning with the toothpaste, I was, if nothing else, smelling extremely fresh!
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