Won another £150. Bollocks. This really isn’t working. Please don’t copy me. Gambling is for jerks.
Some of the people I hate most in the world are estate agents. I hate generalisations, but all estate agents are slimy, money obsessed, lying idiots, who went to public school, but still didnÂ’t get any A levels and so have to do an essentially unnecessary job for too much money. ItÂ’s not a generalisation. Show me one estate agent who isnÂ’t like that and I will show you an estate agent who has lied to you to convince you that he isnÂ’t like that and has thus confirmed just exactly how much he is like that in reality.
I am currently having to deal with the rubbishy estate agents who are (half-heartedly) attempting to sell my flat for me and also the estate agents who are selling me my new house. The estate agents that are selling my place have annoyed me. They came round in late November and quoted me an asking price that was about 25,000 pounds higher than the estimate I had been given by a rival. The man (whose surname was Herring, so I thought I could trust him, but now I begin to wonder if this was some kind of trick. Maybe they print up cards in the office where they replace their real name with your surname, to make themselves appear like family) assured me that he would be able to get this amount. So what with him being related to me and being able to get me more money, I decided to go with his firm. A few weeks later they rang me and suggested the price was a bit high (like it had been my estimate. Like I was the one saying that I could sell it for that) and that maybe if I dropped 5000 pounds more people would come round. So I agreed. I still thought it was probably a bit on the expensive side, but you never know your luck.
Then a couple of weeks ago they rang me and said they were having difficulty getting people to come and see the flat, what with the price being so high. They thought I should knock another ten thousand pounds off the asking price. Or maybe twenty. So essentially they are now telling me that the first estate agent who gave me an asking price had been nearer the mark, and that by putting my flat on the market with them I had wasted two months of realistic clients. I wouldnÂ’t mind so much, but the tone of the whole conversation was that this was my fault. Like I had insisted on asking far too much money and was mental. The horrible estate agent cwunts.
I may move my business to the first estate agents, who although, undoubtedly, as evil as my current estate agents, at least didnÂ’t lie to me about how much my property was worth, in order for me to go with them, knowing that they would eventually drop the price, banking on the fact that I wouldnÂ’t be arsed to go with anyone else once the true price had been achieved, so they would get my custom.
I may do.
Or I may not be arsed.
Now the estate agent who is selling me my new house (who hasn’t even had the intelligence to pretend to be called John Herring. Don’t they teach these youngsters anything at Estate Agent school? Yes, they do. But the potential estate agents are too thick to be able to take it in) has been on the phone to see how things are going and when I will be ready to complete. Of course this is all really in the hands of the other group of people that I hate most in the world, solicitors. The non-false Herring (not that he’s called Herring – he isn’t – just that he isn’t pretending to be called Herring in order to get in with me) estate agent wants me to ring my solicitor to see what the hold up is. It is probably that my solicitor is getting paid so much that he can afford to sit around all day eating caviar and can’t really see the point of working all that hard.
To be honest it gave me great pleasure to know that a one of the kind of people I really hate in the world was being inconvenienced by one of the other kind of people I really hate in the world. So although I told John Not Herring that I would ring my solicitor immediately to find out what was happening. I didnÂ’t. IÂ’m not going to ring him until Wednesday.
And thus I have my revenge.
Which I am sure will sour the massive commission that John Not Herring will be getting for the sale.
Now I have to think of a way of getting back at my solicitor (as well as Paul Pretend-Herring at the Balham estate agents).
