Mortgage Brokers Play Dialing for Dollars With Sacramento Agents

People often stutter all over the place when I answer my phone. They freely admit that I have freaked them because I, a Sacramento real estate agent, answer my phone. This is odd to them. Maybe they were hoping and praying that they’d reach voice mail when calling Sacramento agents, I dunno. Callers often begin the conversation by apologizing and stumbling over their words after they realize that my greeting, “Hi, this is Elizabeth,” means I am not a robot or a recording. Nope, hey, this is a real, live human they are talking to, and I’d like to know what I can do for them.

Can’t say there aren’t times when I wish I had not answered my phone. Lately, lots of mortgage brokers have been calling, asking if I would like to refer business to them. They call me because they know I am a top producer among other Sacramento agents. But that’s about as far as the thought process takes them. If they were to think just a few steps ahead, they would figure out that a top producer is a top producer because she has an established network base supporting her. That network includes a favorite mortgage broker or two.

Why would I need more services when I’m perfectly happy with what I’ve got? And if I wasn’t satisfied, would I choose some yo-yo I don’t know who called me out of the blue? Is that how a top producer in Sacramento real estate stays a top producer, grabbing a support system at random? The better place to find business is among brand new agents. But they don’t think about any of that.

A mortgage broker called yesterday as I was driving down Business 80 and trying to stay out of the way of freeway lunatics who go a million miles an hour where the freeway splits to get on Highway 99. They are in such a rush to get out to Elk Grove that they pose potential risks to the rest of us, who are trying to cut over to Highway 50 to go to Land Park or Midtown. Don’t even get me started on trying to merge to get off on 16th Street or 10th Street, which is like taking your life literally in your hands as those very hands are placed on the steering wheel, without enough time, as any good Catholic can attest, to temporarily lift even one hand to perform the Sign of the Cross before merging from Highway 50.

This mortgage broker was driving by my listing sign in Antelope, and that was her excuse or reason for calling. I informed her it was pending. We have an accepted offer. Then, she decided to argue and tell me there was no pending sign on it; therefore, it must be for sale. Many, many Sacramento agents do not use pending signs. We have the Internet. That’s where people go for information and, real estate professionals, especially, don’t get their information from property signs. I assured her the home was definitely pending.

Then I asked if she was new to the business, because she sounded like she could be a new mortgage broker. Nope, she’s been in the business, she claimed, for 14 years. She carried on with her questions, asking when I would be holding an open house, because: “like I said, I was driving by the listing in Antelope,” and this is when it suddenly became evident that what was clearly irritating her now was this asshole agent — whose silent car ride she had interrupted by her urgent need to talk about this Antelope listing — was not listening to her. How dare I? After all, she called me.

But interrupt her, I did. There will be no open house because the listing is PENDING. I did not add: like I said.

We never got to the part where she asked me to refer clients to her. Thank, goodness. Because this Sacramento agent suddenly had to say goodbye.