The Good Old Days

My husband and I are vacationing in Florida for the week. On a lark we walked through a charming community where it might be fun to live, were we to move here one day. We thought maybe we would get a look inside one of the houses currently for sale and, to do so filled out a form online at Realtor.com, giving my email address and phone number.

Within minutes I received a dozen phone calls, a million emails and a trillion text messages from real estate agents clamoring to show me properties in Florida. I answered a few of them saying I only wanted to see two particular houses in one particular community. One guy said okay fine, I can get you in there tomorrow. But then he texted me ten times during dinner saying he hadn't reached the owners and alas, ultimately he was of no help at all.

Not one of these so-called "professionals" can get me in to see that house, yet all of them want to be my agent. This is real estate in 2020. Like most things, it's a joke and far worse than in "the old days." You know -- those days when there were only two sexes and actual humans instead of robots answered the phone and only politicians with experience in running a government ran for office.