I’ve been negotiating for one client for two weeks. I’ve told her multitudinal – catchy word – times that any price below the asking is a win. Based on the comps, it’s priced under where it should be. I suggest we start 20k below that and see where it goes.
Day before yesterday, we get counter offer number three. It’s $2500 more than two. When you’re spending $400,000, $2500 doesn’t seem like much. I guess it depends on whose money you’re spending. Last night, I call and say if they – she has a husband who signs anything I put in front of him – don’t accept this counter offer, I’m going to arm wrestle her. We’re at $11,000 under asking. I’m thinking big win.
So I wait all day today. Clock’s ticking. The counter expires at 6 pm. I leave her a message around 2. I’m thinking she’s not going to sign it. Two weeks wasted. She calls back at 5 and says her husband’s already signed the counter – no surprise – but “I’m not a happy camper.” And I’m thinking I’m the negotiator. I’m cool. I’m bad. Huh? Oh? You’re not happy?
“I know you can’t decide for us, but what’s your opinion?” I go through it again. Priced right. $11,000 under asking. Smaller unit just closed for the same price. It’s nice. It’s what you want. “Okay. Let’s do it.” Sometimes people have to talk it out. They have to think on it overnight – or over days. They have to rationalize. They have to talk. They’ve never owned a home. They’ve been living in the same apartment for 20 years. They’re about to be home owners. They’re freaked out of their minds.
Me, I’m going to listen to the Bee Gees.
