Public Accountability for My Resolutions- Humor

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 new years hats

 Ahhhh, yes…2009 was a very long year. Many of us were bruised and battered, and a few even required tourniquets. Some of you discovered Primal Screaming, while others dipped into the occasional Prozac Cocktail. There were smiles in between the hard knocks, and even a few whoops of delight, but overall, the year tested the patience of most every real estate agent I know. 

Thus, I, “L.A.’s Sherlock of Homes,” am going public with my 12 resolutions for a better year (one for every month of course.) Maybe if I state them aloud I’ll have a better chance of keeping them: 

January:  

I promise not to bitch-slap the 25 year old starlet who is buying a 3 million dollar Malibu pad and wants me to lower my commission so she can buy a, $8k Viosky couch.  Okay, “promise” is a strong word. How ‘bout “resolve”? Forget it, the kid is still getting one upside the head. 

February 

I will never again say, “Hey, I can strip wall paper!” just to convince a buyer that the ugly cow print in the bathroom should not deter her from making an offer. Okay, I lied. I’ll probably do it again. I may even promise to re-roof the house if someone will hold the ladder. 

March 

Granted, I’m not off to a good start, but let’s try again. Okay, I will not be frustrated and deflated if the market takes another surge into Dante’s Inferno. (I know I can keep this resolution – my uncle Vito owns a bar where I can get free booze if I need to medicate.) 

April 

Okay, I’m getting into this now. I resolve to not laugh at my six foot tall,  Barbie doll buyer with the painted on capris when she bends over to test the water temperature in the pool, splits her breeches and falls into the deep end….even when her wig comes off and gets tangled in the automatic pool sweeper. Okay, I can’t stop lying. If it happens again, I’ll probably laugh until I cry. 

May 

I will not think homicidal thoughts when, on the eighth counter, my buyer refuses to budge if the seller will not throw the bloody Plasma into the deal. I think I can, I think I can I think I can….

Nope, he’s dead. 

June

I resolve to cheerfully clean the seller’s  house every time we have an open house (even though he has a cleaning person) because my heart is big and I understand the pressures of surfing all day. Really. Honest. Com’on – give a sister a break – I’m trying

Nope. He’s dead, too. 

July 

I won’t kick my friend into December when she tries to steal my client at a cocktail party. I’ll kick her into 2011 in the parking lot. 

August 

I will let my buyer bring her dog on house hunts, even though the crazy canine tore up the leather on my new Lexus. ($1214). However, this time I will tape the dog’s paws to its head just before I tazer the owner.) 

September

I resolve to learn more about SEO, all of Gates’ new products, and all the computer stuff that requires a Rosetta Stone if you are as thick as I am. Ah, who am I kidding?  No I won’t. My IQ won’t support anything more complicated than lipstick. So I resolve to study all the new products from Revlon. 

October 

I will try to make a better dry martini. And I’ll practice all year. (Yay – I think I found a resolution I can keep!) 

November 

I will not covet the lavish goodies I see everyday in the gazillion dollar Hollywood Hills homes I tour.

I will steal them. 

December 

How am I doing? Hmmm…I just re-read my resolutions and it seems I am weak and hopelessly flawed. I also see a trend toward violence and debauchery. Thus, I will resolve just to enjoy myself and do the best I can not to wake up in the back of a police car. This is Hollywood, folks – I’m doing well just to stay out of re-hab. Oh wait – I just discovered a new business plan – maybe I can pick up some buyers at Promises!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Gwen Banta
Gwen Bantahttps://www.LAhomesite.com
I wear several hats: My mink fedora real estate hat belongs to Sotheby’s International Realty on the world famous Sunset Strip. I’M not world famous, but I've garnered a few Top Producer credits along the way. I also wear a coonskin writer's cap with an arrow through it, having written a few novels and screenplays and scored a few awards there, too. (The arrow was from a tasteless critic.) My sequined turban is my thespian hat for my roles on stage, and in film and television, Dahling. You can check me out in all my infamy at LinkedIn, LAhomesite.com, SherlockOfHomes, IMDB or you can shoot arrows at my head via email. I can take it.

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