My life is full of waiting. For those of you who know me, you know that I also work as a rental real estate agent in NYC. I've been at the same brokerage for the last 3+ years. I lovingly refer to it as "Masad Property Group". It's me surrounded by 30+ 25-35 year olds frmo Tel Aviv. Its like the "Wild and Crazy guys" SNL sketch, but with AmEx black cards....its like........Did you ever see that career builder commercial with the legions of hopping, howling and flailing chimpanzees? If yes, read on. If no, click here, and then read on. So that's what my office is like.
The middle eastern mentality, specifically the Israeli mentalilty has saturated my office. At times its great (they all earn great money and it pushes me to succeed). But certain things like....oh, i dont know......flushing the toilet....ever, seems to escape them. There is also a notable absence of what I call "predication words". Predication words are used in business to make things seem more palatable, but more often than not, they are used because the speaker has no ballz. The z was intentional. Statements in typical American business are like this "Kindly close this client when you have the moment vis-a-vis our initial discussion." Israeli business sounds like this "You take apartment now! Good deal! Yes!"
I really do enjoy most of my co-workers. I especially enjoy my broker. He is a total shark, but for some reason he has a soft spot for me, and I usually come and go when I please, provided that I check in every now and then. All of you actor/waiters or substitute teacher/waiters have it all wrong. Real estate is the only way to go for NYC actors.
Now, here is where the waiting kicks in. I have a client that I have been working with off and on for the last 4 months. He is a married dude with a condo in a swanky UES location. He has a McMansion in the Hamptons, his daughter is an amateur equestrian, he has a midtown office. He is also banging his assistant. He wants to take a "corporate apartment" around the corner from his home. Okay.....corporate apartment, right. But I dont know what implicit, or for that matter, explicit understandings he and his wife have together. All I know is this guy is willing to pay 6K+ a month for a bang pad. He has been stringing me along for a few days about putting in an application in a swanktastic 2 bedroom. He was supposed to show up a half an hour ago, to put in an appliation. Ring ring. PhillyRay picks up the blackberry. Oh, its his assistant. She tells me that she is trying to convince him to take a smaller apartment because "Who knows where he will be in a year." (Are they getting a divorce?)
Hey assistant, go fuck yoursefl.
#1 she is a home wrecker, and I am willing to turn the other cheek on that. But now she is trying to be a deal breaker. Nuh-uh. Not cool. Is she afraid that him spending an extra 6K a month will take away from their candlelight dinners at Le Bernadin? It smells so.