Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Why I Look Like A Deranged Ninja 363 Days of The Year


Why I Look Like A Deranged Ninja 363 Days A Year

 

                I have a debilitating fear that keeps me from effectively showing homes to my wonderful clients in the Spring and Summer.  In Texas, it’s Spring and Summer all year with only two days of Winter.  So, I’m deemed officially, an anxiety ridden agent with the propensity to pass out at any given moment for 363 days of the year.  How, you may ask?  It all started when I was 4 years old in Houma, Louisiana.

 

                In the year 1978, I had the highest and worst fever I had ever had in my short little life.  I remember all of the events as if they were moments ago in my mind.  I was lying in my cute little bed, sick, coughing, burning up with fever.  Suddenly, I heard a noise in the hallway.  I looked over my toes, over the end of the bed and into the doorway.  Something about two feet tall, white and fuzzy leaned into the doorway and looked at me.  I was scared stiff!  It had no face but looked like a spider web cocoon that was two feet tall and about a foot wide. 

 

                It waddled into the doorway where I could fully see it.  It looked like the frosted side of a frosted mini wheat.  I know.  It’s stupid.  But I was scared to death!  Somehow, it climbed up the foot of my bed, crawled over my feet and stood on my legs rocking back and forth.  I was paralyzed with fear.  I couldn’t move, breathe or make a sound.  Suddenly, it lunged at me and ran up my body and attached itself to my face!! Like in the movie Alien and I was Sigourney Weaver!  I couldn’t breathe!  All I could see was white webbing and it was sticky like a spider web.  It was horrifying!

 

                After struggling for what seemed like an eternity, I finally was able to scream out to my mom.  When she came running in and sat by my side, it ran back down my body and out into the hall.  She hadn’t seen it of course.  I told her what had happened and she told me that I was hallucinating because of my fever.  But the damage was done.  I was forever deathly afraid of spider webs.  Not the spiders.  Just the spider webs. 

 

                Now, it still affects me the same way.  In Spring and Summer, I walk around completely terrified because webs are just floating on the wind everywhere!  If one wraps around me or touches me…I hit the ground, completely paralyzed!  My husband thinks it’s hilarious and just laughs and points at me while I’m lying on the ground wrapped in soft, completely non-harmful silk.  It’s my kryptonite.

 

                Sometimes I tell my clients and sometime I don’t.  Sometimes I have to tell my clients because as I’m walking around outside, I’ll duck, jump, run several feet around one, crawl on my knees to escape a floating web or simply lay down on the ground and wait for it to float past, all while whining and whimpering for it to please go away.  Only when my clients are staring at me thinking I’ve completely lost my mind, do I then have to tell them my stupid fear.  I look like a deranged ninja trying to steal a diamond that’s guarded by deadly lasers throughout the room.  Except not as cool and stealthy…and not in as good of shape. 

 

                What are you afraid of?
 
 
Written by:  Myka Allen Johnson
Published Author of Tales From Sales:  Hilarious, Outgrageous and True Stories From Home Sales
Owner/Realtor of StarPointe Realty in Killeen, Texas
Follow me on Twitter:  @StarPointeMyka
Like me on Facebook:  www.facebook.com/talesfromsales

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

"I just talked to my dead cat, MuMu."

 
"I Just Talked To My Dead Cat, MuMu."
 
      A few years ago I obtained an amazing listing that any Realtor would die to get their hands on!  They had met with nearly every Realtor in town and weirdly decided that they liked me.  (Not sure now if this is a compliment.)  We had a great first meeting.  We toured the home, had a great conversation that lasted for a couple of hours.  Somehow, we ended up talking about how much we loved our pets.  So I sat there and listened to the owner talk about her beloved cats.  Not a big deal, but it hadn't gotten weird yet.  We ended the meeting on a great note and agreed to meet the next week to take pictures of the home.
 
     The week dragged on.  I was so excited to get back out there and take pictures of the gorgeous home.  I was going to be the envy of every Realtor in town.  Upon entry, we immediately started talking again and of course the chatter began about the owner's cats.  She has one at her other house and her almost human like cat/child, "MuMu" had just passed away. 
 
     She was able to communicate through a choked voice, tears and puffed out bottom lip that MuMu was her son, her pride and joy and the reason she lived.  She didn't think she could go on.  And at this moment, she had to sit down, the grief was overwhelming.  Which meant, I had to sit down, put my hand awkwardly on her hand and tell it would be okay.  The conversation that came next is one I've never had with anyone.
 
     Me:  "Please don't be sad.  I'm a firm believer that our pets go to heaven.  He's in a better place now."
 
     Her:  "I know.  I just want him here."  She choked out. 
 
     Me:  "Well...(at loss for words) maybe you can get another cat."
 
     Her:  "Are you kidding?  MuMu is coming back.  I can't get another cat." She beligerantly yelled at me like I was an idiot.
 
     Me:  "Umm...what?  What do you mean?  Like Pet Sematary?" (That's how it's spelled in the movie.)
 
    Her:  "What?  Well...we buried him in the pet cemetary close to our home outside of town."
 
     Me:  "Oh yeah.  That's the one they're going to move and make room for a new subdivision." (Big mistake.)
 
     Her:  "WHAT???" she screamed and started wailing, crying and asking me to tell her that's not true.
 
    Me:  "W...w...w...well, maybe it's not true.  I...I..I'm not totally sure."
 
     Her:  "Well I hope not!  He said he was trying be happy where he was.  If we move him, he'll just freak out even more! 
 
     Me:  "Uhhh...what do you mean, 'he said' and 'he's coming back'?"  (I was really starting to think I would have to call the authorities.)
 
     Her:  "I just got back from Michigan for the second time.  I went to talk with a pet psychic.  I needed to speak with MuMu.  He can't live without me."
 
     Me:  (Thinking to myself...yeah, he's dead.  He definitely can't live.  What the heck is this about?)
 
     Her:  "The pet psychic couldn't find his spirit at first because alot of pets were trying to come through and talk to her. (Imagine me with a "is this a joke?" face.)  But then...then...my MuMu came through.  He told the pet psychic that he was scared where he was and that he needed time to adjust.  He needed exactly a year.  When it's been a year since MuMu's death, I should go to the pound and look for a cat that looks like MuMu (black and white) or has red hair.  Then he'll be reincarnated within the cat I choose and my MuMu will come back to me.  He'll come back!"  And she started to sob again.
 
     Me:  (Not believing this was even a real conversation.) "Well, there ya' go!  Proof positive all will be well.  Let me just get these last few pictures done." I got up slowly to take the rest of the photos and mainly to get away from the madness.
 
    
     So she layed her head on the table, exhausted from the sobbing and pain that she had to wait a year for her cat to be reincarnated.  I wandered around taking photos in surreal silence, only interrupted by an occasional murmur that whispered sadly, "Mumu." 
 
     I had so many questions.
 
     How does a cat communicate with a pet psychic?  Series of foot taps?  Tail swings?  Yowling once for yes and twice for no?  If I can't tell if my cat is constipated or hungry in the real world, how can a dead cat communicate reincarnation to a live human?  Then I found out she spent about five grand on the whole ordeal.  Suddenly...I think my cats are making more sense and if any of you doubt it, I'll prove it to you, for a small fee. 
 
     What do you think you're cat is saying to you?

 
Psychic:  "See..he's clearly thinking he needs more playtime from you in order to be happy."
 
Cat:  "I need to poop."
 
    

 


Sunday, December 16, 2012

What's Your Level of Consciousness?


What’s Your Level Of Consciousness? 
“I don’t need training.  I’ve been doing this for years.”
“They can’t tell me anything I don’t already know.”
“Real estate is easy!  Anybody can do that!  Are you kidding?”
“How hard can it be?  Hey…you want this house?  Yeah?  Ok.  Let’s go.”
                I hear these words on a regular basis from other people in and out of the business.  The fact of the matter is, no matter if you are in the real estate industry or out of it, there are levels of consciousness that we need to be aware of when you are trying to advance and be an expert in your field.  You are currently standing firm on one of the levels of consciousness but you may not know what it is.  Knowing is key.  When you know where you are and where you stand, then…you can move up to the next level.
                Let’s take a look at these levels and then determine where you may fall on the scale.


               When you’re evaluating yourself in a certain field to determine your level of consciousness and your expertise in that field, you have to look at these five levels.  It’s easier to illustrate them when you use the example of riding a bicycle. 

                The first level, Unconscious Incompetent, we begin to look around us at other people riding a bicycle.  They make it look easy!  You think, “I can do this! Too easy!” But you have no idea that you don’t know how to ride.  You get a bicycle and ride a foot and fall over.  What?  I thought this was easy.  You didn’t know…that you didn’t know.  But this knowledge propels you to the next level.

                The second level, Conscious Incompetent, simply means, now that you’re sitting on the ground with a skinned knee and elbow, you simply know that you don’t know how to ride.  Now you know that you’ve got to put a good deal of work into this bike riding thing!  If you want to be like all the other kids zipping around on their bikes, you better get to work and put a plan together.  Working towards a goal shoots you up to the next level of consciousness.

                Conscious Competent is the third level and after you’ve practiced a bit, you are now riding your bike slowly but surely on the neighborhood streets.  You have to pay attention to every little detail of what you’re doing; steering, pedaling, speed, braking and also driving defensively.  If you aren’t focused you’ll fall again.  You’re not proficient enough yet to ride with no hands or do tricks but you now know that you know how to ride.  You’ve come a long way but you still want to zip around the park without having to constantly pay attention to what you’re doing and think about it.  Your new goal of leisurely riding around without thinking so hard about it has boosted you up to the fourth level.

                At the fourth level, Unconscious Competent, you’ve practiced so much that you can now ride, do tricks, and not have to even think about all the details while you’re riding.  You are a great bicycle rider and its fun!  It feels great to get on your bike, ride with your friends, laugh and talk and have a great time.  Now you’re going to the bike park and doing some tricks, wheelies and other new things that you’re practicing.  The more you enjoy this level, practice and it becomes natural to you, the closer you get to the last level of consciousness.

                The last level is Conscious and Unconscious Competent.  This simply means that you’ve mastered this field enough to be considered an expert.  You have the knowledge that it takes to teach someone and to advise them in your field of bike riding.  You’re a professional.  The tricky part to this level is that if you don’t continue to practice and/or teach you can move back down to the fourth level.  We should all strive to be at this top level, but we should never be satisfied, and should always strive to do more and be more.

                Change out the term “bike riding” for your field of expertise.  If you’re at the top level that’s great!  But what are you doing to stay there and continue to raise the bar?  There are people on the levels below you that are setting goals and scrapping and pushing every day to reach the same level as you.  Will they surpass you because you’re content with your current location? 

                I hope this starts a good discussion.  Please leave your comments.  If you were to assess yourself today, what level would you be on?  Where would your friends and co-workers assess you?
Written by:
Myka AllenJohnson
Owner/Realtor of StarPointe Realty


Thursday, October 25, 2012

All The Money In The World

 
All The Money In The World
 
 
     Most of the time, you don't expect to be inspired or completely awestruck on any given day.  You get up every morning, brush your teeth, put your clothes on, and walk out the door for another vanilla day at work.  Being here in Killeen, close to Fort Hood,  has given me a chance to meet the strongest and bravest individuals I know I'll ever meet in life.  When my husband began his career as a firefighter, I would stay up the nights he was on shift and pray for him to come back home safely.  Nearly ten years later; I'm still doing it, but with my daughter now.  "Please take care of daddy. Watch over him and bring him home safely to us in the morning. Amen."
 
     Until I moved here to Killeen and started to really see what life was like for these families, I didn't realize how lucky I have it.  My husband works twenty four hours then he's off for forty eight hours.  To me and my daughter, that twenty four hour stretch is excruciating and we just want daddy home with us.  These military families go without their mommies and daddies for twelve to eighteen months at a time!  Some daddies miss the birth of their sons and daughters, some mommies and daddies miss the first steps, the first words, the first day of school or just being able to watch them grow and to hug them everyday.
 
     The military moms and dads are across the world, fighting for our freedom and are occasionally getting to speak to their loved ones on the phone or web.  No one can know what's it's like for our soldiers over there.  We know they come back changed.  No one can know what it's like for the families who are here without their loved ones.  Not knowing if they're safe tonight or any night.
 
      Some of the strongest women I've ever known have been military wives who somehow take care of everything that needs to be taken care of, be everywhere that all the kids have to be and somehow retain their sanity and give all of their love to their children and to their significant other across the phone or Internet and still find time to support other families and friends in need. 
 
     I met one of these strong military wives one day as I was selling homes for a local builder.  Two women walked into the model home; one was obviously the mother and the other the daughter.  They looked so much alike.  The daughter came in and did not raise her head but looked at the floor.  She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties.  The mother was definitely the leader and began a conversation with me.  She told me that her daughter and she would like to find two homes.  One for her and her husband and one for their daughter.  They wanted to live next to each other.  They had a very close family. 
 
      I realized after about thirty minutes that the daughter had still not said a word and she couldn't even look at me.  The mother was friendly and told me a lot about what they were looking for  but I could tell there was something else they were holding back. 
 
     So I took them to look at a few homes, the mother said she liked two but never asked the daughter what she liked.  They exchanged a couple of painful glances but that was about it.  I tried to start conversations with the daughter, to break the silence and awkwardness but the mother would interrupt and start on a different topic.  I knew that we had the right homes for them, in the right location and the right price.  The mother gave me their contact information and left with me telling them that I would call them tomorrow.
 
     I sat in my office and just thought about that entire two and half hours of interaction.  Not a single word from the daughter. Maybe she had emotional problems or physical problems.  I didn't want to guess but I knew that I needed another piece of the puzzle.  So after they left, I began to write them a thank you note and the thank you turned into a longer note about how much I enjoyed helping them and how I wanted to make sure they found something perfect for their family because I could tell their daughter meant the world to them.
 
     Two days later, the mother and daughter showed up again in my model, with a baking tin full of brownies.  The daughter was still staring at the floor but I saw that she had the letter I had written them in her hand.  The mother handed me the brownies and said, "We've been a lot of places to look at homes.  This will be a special deal and we feel like we can trust you.  No one else cared to spend the time or to write us a letter.  We'd like to show our appreciation with these brownies and we'd also like to build our homes with you."
 
     She started to tear up a little and handed me the brownies.  I thanked her and we all sat down in my office and ate brownies and drank coffee.  The mother suddenly said, "I don't know when my daughter will want to speak up.  She's been through a terrible experience that we won't get into right now.  But I can tell you what she would like in her new home until she feels up to talking."
 
     I still had no idea what was going on, but I knew this sweet girl had gone through some sort of trauma.  She still had not looked me in the eye or even mumbled a word.  At the moment, she sat eating her brownie and while her mom talked, she paused and stared ahead of her. 
 
     Suddenly the daughter put her brownie down, without looking up and without moving she said, "Thank you for not asking me to talk.  Thank you for not asking what was wrong with me or why I'm so quiet.  Thank you for your letter."
 
     Then she looked me right in the eyes with tears rolling down her cheeks and said, "My husband was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder in Iraq and he killed himself.  He was my soul mate.  He was my life.  I wasn't there for him when he needed me.  I couldn't help him when he needed help.  I was here; safe.  He was there; sad and suffering.  I don't have a husband.  I won't ever get to have his children."
 
     At this, she stopped and lost control.  The mother put her arm around her daughter as if to say, "That's enough." But the daughter wanted...needed to go on. 
 
     With anger this time she said, "The only reason I can buy this house is because my husband killed himself!  I have to use the money I got from his death!  I would give back every penny and everything I have to have him back today!" She screamed.  "This house will always remind me that he will not be here to share it with me." And with those final words, she broke down and cried a long overdue cry that sounded like relief and at the same time absolute despair. 
 
     We all sat together and cried and prayed.  I helped build two houses for these unbelievably strong women.  There were happy days and there were sad days.  But family sticks together and it's love knows no bounds.  That was several years ago and they still live next to each other in the same homes I sold them.  Only now, the daughter has found a husband and there's a beautiful baby who lights up their home.  It's not the family that she had originally planned; but it's a wonderful sight for me to see her running in her front yard, chasing her little toddler.  Happy and full of love again. 
 
     If you ever need a moment to put things in perspective when you wake up every morning thinking about how bad your day is...be thankful for your family, for undying love, for a God who takes care of us even in the bleakest and darkest of days and for the fact that you are alive.  Wherever you are, when you see a soldier, thank them; buy their lunch or just shake their hand.  They deserve happiness and respect. The reason we can get up in the morning, go to work, be free and be happy and safe is because they are protecting us. There are thousands of families who would gladly give everything they have to get their loved ones back who have given their lives for our freedom.  Thank you soldiers and military.  Army strong.
    
     

Thursday, October 11, 2012

The Deadly Dung Beetle


The Deadly Dung Beetle

 

                I nearly died yesterday.  I can’t remember when I’ve been more scared!  I can’t believe that I made it to the office safely without killing myself and everyone around me.  Here is how I nearly died yesterday.

                It was a typical day for real estate; I was meeting a home inspector at a home in downtown Killeen.  It is a beautiful property with gorgeous trees that are so old and tall.  Nearly the entire yard is shaded.  It’s lovely.  So when I was standing in the driveway under a massive oak tree talking with the inspector about what he felt were the main issues with the house, the inspector said the main thing was that there was a massive hornets’ nest in the breaker box and they got very angry with him when he opened it.  He was not stung but he did bother them a bit. 

                I am extremely allergic to hornets, wasps and bees and mainly just hate them in general.  I got the chills when he told me and I could just imagine them stalking me at that very moment!  We were still discussing the hornets when something big thudded on my right shoulder and I screamed and nearly jumped into the inspectors arms.  (That would’ve been really bad since he was half my size.)

                I looked on my shoulder. Nothing.  I looked all around me where whatever it was could’ve fallen onto the ground after hitting my shoulder. Nothing.  I thought it must’ve been a big acorn that fell from the tree and I didn’t see where it went.  The inspector said, “I hope it’s not a hornet!” and laughed.  We shook hands, said our goodbyes and I walked back down the driveway, across the street and into my car.

                I had about a 10 minute drive down the main drag in Killeen until I was back at the office.  Suddenly, the top of my head started to itch.  So I scratched it.  I didn’t think anything of it.  Then…the top of my head started to really itch and I could tell that something BIG was in my hair on the top of my head.  Just like in a horror movie, everything turned into slow motion!  I slowly looked at the top of my head in the rear view mirror and saw a giant orange and black bug moving around in my hair!

                Orange and black!  Orange and black!  Oh my God!  It’s a hornet!  A hornet!  A hornet is my hair, in my car!  I started to scream at the top of my lungs and weirdly just screamed the word, “Hornet!!” over and over again.  I was in shock.  Then it started to get mad and buzz trying to get loose from my hair! 

                Here are the thoughts that went through my head:

1.        I can’t touch it!  It’ll get mad and sting me! 

2.       It’ll get mad and sting my head over and over again because it’s stuck!

3.       It’ll get loose and fly around all pissed off and sting me while I’m driving and I’ll wreck.

4.       If I leave it alone, it’ll make its way down to my face and sting my face!

5.       Then it’ll get pissed and fly around the car, sting me again and cause me to wreck the car.

I was panicking!  So…the only rational thing I could think of was to roll the window down, stick my head out of the car as far as I could and scream, “Get out!!! Get out!! Get out!!” while crying uncontrollably and driving down the main street in Killeen!

At this point, people in the cars around me were staring and wondering what in the world was going on.  I was screaming with my head out the window and praying for God to get this hornet out of my hair.

I pulled my head back into the car after a couple of minutes and in movie slow motion again, looked into the rear view mirror to see if it had flown out.  There it was.  And now… it was tangled even worse in my hair and was even more pissed than before and was buzzing like crazy trying to break free from my hair!  I started to scream and cry uncontrollably but didn’t stick my head out of the car this time but people were still looking at me because my window was down and they could hear me screaming and asking God to get this hornet out of my hair!  I was still screaming and crying, “Get out!  Get out!”

As I approached my office, I slowly picked up the phone and called my partner, CJ.  He answered calmly of course, and then I screamed, “CJ!!  There’s a hornet in my hair!  Oh my god there’s a hornet in my hair!  Meet me in the parking lot now and get it out!!”

CJ said calmly, “Do what?”

“There’s a hornet in my hair!  There’s a hornet in my hair!  Just get out in the parking lot now and get it out!  Now!  Now!  Now!”  And I hung up the phone, careened into the parking lot, threw the car into park, jumped out of the car and bent over in front of CJ who was already in the parking lot ready to help. 

I was screaming at him, “Get it out! Get it out! Get it out!”

He kept saying he didn’t see it and then it buzzed and he said, “Here it is.” And he flipped out a giant bug that landed on the parking lot.  It was an enormous dung beetle. 

CJ pointed at it, looked at me, said, “Well, there you go.”  He turned around and slowly walked back into the office leaving me on my knees in the parking lot still in shock, heaving and weak from the adrenaline that had been pumping through my body.  I looked at that dung beetle and was so glad it wasn’t a hornet but the dung beetle is just as scary and gross. 

Everyone in the neighboring offices and businesses were staring and wondering what in the heck was going on with the screaming idiot that just pulled a giant beetle out of her hair and is now heavily breathing and crying on her knees in the parking lot alone. 

I took a picture of the dung beetle to remember the bug that nearly killed me.  I can’t believe I was able to drive that long, in panic mode, screaming with my head sticking out the window!  My head keeps itching now and everyone keeps saying that it probably laid eggs in my hair.  If so, I’ll write a follow up chapter when the eggs hatch and I try to drive back to the office and have CJ kill the hatchlings.  Hands down; scariest ten minute drive ever.  I hate bugs.
 

Here it is.  The Dung Beetle that nearly killed me.  I hope he died a horrible death being dismembered by a ravenous bird.  Uggh.

 

Written by:

Myka Allen-Johnson

Owner and Realtor of StarPointe Realty

forsalebymyka@yahoo.com

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Russian Mail Order Bride, Anyone?


 

 

Russian Mail Order Bride, Anyone?
She's worth 15 Million!

           

            This is one of the most unbelievable stories that I have to tell.  I’ve never had anyone rival the likes of a girl named Ashley.  She’s only the fourth person that I’ve ever talked to that has actually gotten a million dollar inheritance, won the lottery or come into millions from a lawsuit.  The latter is what we will be talking about in this story.  Ashley was a 23 year old girl with the worst set of teeth I’ve ever seen in my whole life.  And I’ve traveled a lot to other southern states; so that’s saying a lot!  I hate to be mean but I really need to paint the picture for you.  It was extremely unfortunate.

 

            Ashley came to visit with me one afternoon with her new fiancé.  She was a very happy girl which was sort of unnerving considering that each smile rattled your soul and gave you the chills a little.  She was normal looking enough but obviously pregnant.  Immediately she took to me, telling me her name and that she and her fiancé were expecting a baby girl.  She loved my name and asked if it would be okay if they used it.  Which, I thought was a little strange after our first meeting but okay.  So we got past the pleasantries and we sat down in my office for the most revealing and unbelievable story I’ve ever heard.  Here are all of the things that Ashley told me during this initial meeting:

 

1.      I was in a car wreck where I was almost killed last year.

2.      In that car wreck, I hit the steering wheel and lost all of my teeth.

(This made me feel especially badly for judging, but as you will read on, it soon passes.)

3.      I was pregnant during that car wreck and lost the baby.

4.      Because of how injured I was, I was awarded $15 million dollars in a court case.

5.      I’m about to receive $9 million of those dollars in the next month.

6.      I have two other children from another marriage.

7.      My ex-husband stole my other two children and I don’t know where they are.  We’re currently hunting him down so I can get my children back.

8.      I almost found them when I went to visit his parent’s house in Alabama and I accidentally lost control of my car and rammed it through his house.  During that incident, he got away and took the kids with him and I haven’t seen him since. 

9.      I’m just lucky to be here because my mom is in the Russian Mafia.  She’s wanted in the United States for money laundering.

10.  My mom wanted me to have a better life than she could provide for me in Russia so she sold me as a Russian mail order bride to an American business man when I was 16. 

11.  I stayed married to him until I was 19.  He was really nice and set me up with some money. 

12.  Then I met my ex-husband and we had two kids together.  He went crazy and took my kids away from me.

13.  We want to buy two houses from you.  One for me and my fiancé and one for my mom to live in when she comes down from Russia.  (Yes. The one that is wanted in the United States for Russian Mafia money laundering.)

14.  I hope that my current baby is okay, because I fell on my stomach at the airshow today.

15.  Oh, these bruises on my upper arm?  (accusing glance at fiancé) I fell on a boat dock.

 

            After all that, it was such an unbelievable story that I had to believe it. Who could make anything like that up? 

 

So, we wrote up two contracts for two houses that she was going to buy from me.  In the next weeks, she brought me bank account information that showed she was ready for the $9 million to go into it and with routing information from the bank to our company for the cost of the home.  Everything as crazy as it sounds, seemed like it was falling into place and it was one of the easiest sales I’ve ever made.  Although, easy sales tend to be too good to be true.  A little foreshadowing, maybe?

 

            The closing date came and went for Miss Ashley. She came in and said that her lawyer assured her that the money would come in.  It was just caught up in the system.  So we set another close date.  That close date came and went.

 

            Then she gave birth to a new baby girl.  The reason that I know is because I got a phone call one afternoon and a breathless, Ashley was on the phone and she wasn’t making any sense.  She sounded confused.  Through shallow breaths, she said, “I had.... the.... baby!”

 

             I said, “Great! When did you have it?”    

 

            “About 15...... minutes ago. (Heavy breathing.)  They’re wheeling me ......back into my..... room.” She wheezed out.

 

            “What?  What are you doing calling me?  You need to rest!” I said.  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing but I actually heard the doctors and nurses talking to her as she was talking to me on the phone.

 

            “I snuck.... my phone into the labor room..... so I could call you..... as soon as I had her." She giggled maniacally.  "I named her after you.  (Big deep breath.)  I named her... Myka.” She said proudly.

 

            I was really starting to feel weird.  I didn’t want to encourage this strange and unnatural relationship anymore.  I barely know this person and she’s calling me while she’s being wheeled back into her room after child birth and naming her daughter after me?  Oh God!  This is not happening!

 

             I didn’t know what to say except.  “Wow.  Thank you.  Congratulations.  You need to rest.  I’ll talk to you later.” I said.

 

            She had desperation in her voice when she said, “Okay.  Will you call me later?”

 

            Whoa.  This is really headed down the wrong way.  “You just rest okay?” I said.

 

            After that, I didn’t hear from her for about two weeks and I had to cancel her sales contracts because she wouldn’t answer any of my calls or any of the calls from the company I was working for as well.  One night, I was working late at the office and got a strange call from a man who said he was a lawyer that was representing Ashley in a current custody hearing.  I checked his credentials and looked up his company on the internet and he was on the up and up.  Unbelievably, here is what he told me!

 

  1. She was never in any car wreck.
  2. Since there was no car wreck, there was no loss of teeth.  She’s always had an unfortunate dental situation!
  3. Again, since there was no car wreck, there was no baby that was lost.  However, she had been pregnant before and tried to lose it herself by throwing herself down stairs and falling.
  4. There is no $15 million dollars that will be awarded to her.  In fact, there is a court case open right now but it’s against her.
  5. There was no $9 million dollars that was going to be immediately awarded to her.
  6. She doesn’t have two other children, she has five!
  7. Her ex-husband didn’t take her children from her, a court named her an indecent parent and awarded the kids to the father.
  8. When she visited her ex-husbands house in Alabama, she didn’t accidentally lose control of her car; she ran it through the living room, backed out and got away from the police.
  9. Her mom is not in the Russian Mafia.  She’s never even been to Russia or of Russian decent.  Her mom is from Alabama and has never been out of the state.
  10. Obviously if the above is true then she was not a mail order bride.  In fact, Ashley was born and raised in Alabama.
  11. She’s only been married once.  The older business man is a complete figment of her imagination.
  12. Again, her ex-husband took her kids away from her for being an indecent parent and a court of law found her legally incompetent.
  13. Obviously, she did not buy a house from me.  Turns out she does not have a dollar to her name.  She attached herself to her newest fiancé who does not know her past.
  14. She did fall on her stomach at the airshow, but she had a history of trying to lose her babies.
  15. The bruises on her arm were self inflicted.  Since she was 16, she’s always thrown herself down stairs, fallen down and twisted her arms to make bruises and blames other people for the attention.

 

            You can imagine my shock and horror.  I was so mad at myself for believing all of those stories.  I felt like the biggest idiot!  It was all so crazy that I didn’t think anyone could make up anything as unreal as that.  To top all of this off, the reason that the lawyer called me is because Ashley had submitted into evidence, a letter “from me,” stating that I was Ashley's employer.  It said that Ashley had been cleaning my house for a year and that I was paying her cash and that was how she was going to support her new baby.  The lawyer was trying to subpoena me to court to prove that Ashley had a job but I shot that lie down real quick.  That’s when he started to ask me questions and let me know the real truth. 

 

            I never heard from Ashley again but I assume her life is not what she imagined it would be.  I wish her the best, but I’ll never be able to forgive myself for being that gullible.  I have never since met anyone that was as sincerely and believably crazy as Ashley.  One thing I never understood is that if I was going to make up a bunch of crap about myself, I’d make it really good!  Not a Russian mail order bride!  What?  Come on!
 
        
Written by:
 
Myka Allen-Johnson
Owner and Realtor of StarPointe Realty
 
 

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Partner Parables


Partner Parables

 

                I’ve had many sales partners and trained sales agents over the years and I’ve loved them all dearly.  They were all so different in their own special ways and I’ve never forgotten all the stories that have made me laugh uncontrollably.  Here’s a collection of short stories about my beloved partners and sales agents over the years:

 

                A Blast of a First Day

                It is my first day at my new neighborhood and also my first official day with a particularly large company and I meet my new partner.  She’s very pretty and outgoing and has a skirt on with some cute little heels.  As she’s showing me around the model homes, we get to the option and color selection room upstairs and she says, “Oh.  This is really important.  Watch.  Listen.”

                Then she grabs her dress, pulls it up to her waist, throws her foot in the air, jumps up and farts so loud that it scares me and I jump. 

                “So.  Any questions about the colors and options?” she says without even smiling or missing a beat. 

                “You just jump farted.  I don’t even know you.” I said. 

                “Oh that.  Yep.  Get used to it.”

                “I think I love you.” I said.  And we lived happily ever after.

 

First Day Jitters

Several years later, I was working for a different company and a new girl had her first day as a new homes consultant.  She said that she was a nervous person and that she took an extra dose of her anti-anxiety pill that morning.  I was thinking that this wasn’t a very good start but began to train her anyway. 

I could tell she was very nervous because she kept running to the bathroom.  She went to the bathroom about 10 times in the matter of the first hour.  She just kept saying how nervous she was.  I told her it would be okay, that I used to be a teacher and I’ve been a sales trainer, I’m very patient and will help her through this.  She tentatively agreed and kept working on the computer.  Every once in a while, I would smell something foul and pretended not to smell it so her nerves wouldn’t get any worse than they were.

At this instant, she sprang up from her chair, looked at me with tears in her eyes and cried, “I’m sorry!”

“For what?” I said. 

“I thought that I just had to toot and I just crapped my pants big time!” and she started crying profusely.

I didn’t know what to say and just sat there with my jaw on the floor.  She didn’t move but the smell suddenly hit me and I yelled, “Oh God!  You’re going to have to go home I think.”

“Yeah.  It’s a big one. It’s diarrhea. And it’s going down my pants leg.” She bellowed and wailed in embarrassment.

“Go home! I won’t tell.  Change clothes and come back.”

So she walked slowly to her car with a stiff legged walk of shame and we were partners for a year and I’ve never told a soul until now.

 

Politically Incorrect

Since I had teaching, sales training and sales management experience, I was called on to train most all of the new sales people.  Some were young and soaked everything in and were excited to learn and some were older, set in their ways and said things that made you want to crawl under a rock. 

The latter is the case of this story.  One gentleman that I was training was on his fourth day and he was starting to get the hang of things by watching me greet customers and answer any questions about the neighborhood that people might have.  On this day, I was writing a contract with another customer and I let the newbie greet people that came in.  There is no better practice than to just do it!

I’m listening to the newbie greet a customer when they asked about the racial makeup of the community.  Oh no!  We haven’t gone over a prepared response for that yet!  Oh God!  I jumped up to intervene but not quick enough.  Now, my newbie has no issues with any race, but he has an issue with nervously saying things that he shouldn’t and not remembering how or why he said it.  I call it “information vomiting with no recall”. 

To the customer’s question of racial makeup for the community, my newbie, obviously rattled and nervous spouts off, “Well… I can tell you immigration isn’t staking out THIS neighborhood!”

Oh god!  It was so painful.  I said, “I’m sorry.  What he meant to say is that we’re a beautifully diverse neighborhood and we urge you to spend time in the neighborhood to find a home and atmosphere that works for you and your family.”

The newbie said, “Yeah.  That’s what I said.”

 

 

Realistic Portrayal of Model Homes

I trained a company’s sales team with a sales agent who had serious issues with drinking.  I never said anything because I knew that it was so bad, that basically anyone could see it any time.  Realtors began complaining that he was drunk and just handed them a key and went back to sleep at his desk.  One realtor even told a story that he took them out to see a home, got out of the car, barfed on the street, wiped his mouth with his shirt and staggered into an inventory home to show them.  She was mortified!

His last day of work, he had come in completely drunk.  He opened the door to the model and passed out on the bed in the master bedroom.  He probably would have gotten away with it except the front door was open and a customer came in, tried to wake him, called 911 and the ambulance drove him to the hospital where he was treated for alcohol poisoning. 

When asked about the ordeal, the customer said, “At first I just thought that it was some sort of new thing that showed you how real people can live in the models.  I just thought he was acting.  Then I got scared because I thought he was dead.”

 

Super Partner Strength

When you’re a woman in real estate, you’re always on edge when you’re alone in an office with a stranger.  This particular day, my partner and I were both working and a strange man walked in and started talking to Leslie, my partner.  I immediately got a bad feeling when the hairs on my neck and arms stood on end.  The questions he was asking seemed rehearsed.  He asked to see the model home.

Leslie took him down the walk to see the model home.  Another customer came in and I was busy for a little while with them and realized after they left that it had been a very long time and Leslie still wasn’t back.  I instantly felt scared and knew I was about to walk in on a bad scene.  Every hair on my body was standing up as I opened the front door.  I was right. 

They were both at the top of the stairs and Leslie was crying and pleading with the large man to let her go and she was writhing but couldn’t shake his grip. Something went through me that I’ve never felt before and I instantly was filled with unshakable bravery and strength and screamed, “Hey (bad word here)! Let go of her!”

The huge stranger was so transfixed by Leslie that he didn’t even hear me and didn’t see me charging up the stairs towards him.  Leslie was about to pass out from fear and he was holding her up against him.  I pushed through them and broke up his grip on her and Leslie fell to the ground crying.  I burned a hole through his retinas and screamed, “Get out!”

What looked back at me was pure evil and he smiled a sinister smile and started to move towards me and I pushed him down the stairs. He fell down about six or seven stairs when he grabbed the rail and steadied himself and smiled again.  I came after him and pushed him down the final flight and when he got up at the bottom of the stairs it was like he had woken up from a dream or possibly possessed. 

He looked at me like he’d never seen me before and said, “What the hell are you doing?  What’s wrong with you?” He dusted himself off, stood up and said, “Ya’ll are crazy.”  Then he left.

Immediately, the super human strength left and I felt extremely weak and didn’t know if I could stay upright.  I didn’t know if I could make it up the stairs to check on Leslie or not.  Somehow, I pulled myself up and called out to her and she said she was okay.  I made it to the top of the stairs and hugged her as we both sat on the ground and cried; both weak from fear.  She said, “Thank you. I was so scared.  I don’t know what he would have done to me.”

“That’s what partners do.” I said.  “We watch out for each other’s backs.”
I had never seen that guy before and thankfully I never saw him again.  I don’t know what came over me that day but I think I was possessed too.   But definitely not with the same spirit he was possessed with.  A spirit that was strong enough to ward off pure evil.