Career Crazy

I was working on a construction site when I told my co-workers I was thinking of getting my Real Estate license and jumping into the business. A big hulking older sheet-rocker guy I didn’t know, other than his name was Earl, stopped hammering and looked at me long and steady. He narrowed his eyes, and said, “We’ll talk later.”

After work that afternoon at the local pub Earl pulled me aside. “Let’s get away from this loud music,” he said. The Irish band was in good form, a group of eight or ten sitting in a circle, playing button accordion, guitars, fiddles, Irish frame drum, flutes and pipes. You couldn’t find a happier scene: step dancers expertly footing in unison across the hardwood floor; people smiling and laughing and buying each other drinks. But Earl loomed over me morosely as he guided me to a corner table. “Listen,” he said, “As one who has gone before you through the field of Real Estate, I must warn you of the dangers awaiting you.” He sat quietly, staring me down.

“Deals will blow up in your face!” He described the immense work he put into finding the right homes for his buyers only to have inspections, low appraisals, title issues, and disclosures cause them to cancel the sale.

“You don’t get a regular paycheck in Real Estate. You only get paid when an escrow closes, if by some miracle it actually closes, and that’s after a month or two of work.”

He drank a long pull from a tall glass of amber fluid.

He suddenly thumped our table with his ham-sized fist. “When you make a mistake, and you will, you will be guilty of costing people money and time. Unforgiveable!” Earl downed the rest of his drink. The band played Whiskey in the Jar.

“So, my friend,” said Earl, “if you insist on getting into Real Estate, you’re crazy!”

I asked Earl how long he had been out of the Real Estate business.

“I’m still in the business,” he said. “Twenty five years.” He saw my confusion, and said, “I love construction work and I’m on vacation, helping my buddy sheet rock his house.”

“So your motive is what, Earl,” I said somewhat confrontationally, “scaring me out of Real Estate to eliminate me as competition?”

He leaned back and laughed out loud. “No, no!” he said. “I welcome you into the business, and Real Estate is a great career.”

He got up and slapped me on the back. “I was just testing you to see if you are the right kind of crazy!”

It turns out I was.