Real Estate agents are from Mars; Clients are from Venus

I like buying real estate but hate selling it. Shopping for a new home is an intoxicating opportunity to envision a new lifestyle, criticize the taste of others — and it's addictive. On the other hand, when you list your home, you want to sell immediately. Every moment it remains unsold is humiliating. Where are the multiple offers everyone else is getting?

The buy and sell proposition is fascinating this time around because we're buying with one agent in the city and selling with another in the country. It's easy to love the city agent — she enthusiastically shows us one nice place after another. The agent in the country hasn't sold our place — he's harder to love. What a burden for listing agents. He or she is deemed a genius when your home sells but, until then, your thoughts about them are less than pleasant.

The buying process starts off in a haze of good feelings, but then they ask what you're willing to spend. A broker I once worked with handed me over to an associate when there weren't enough millions attached to my answer. What I like best in this initial dance is the hint of how high you might go for the right place. You adamantly cap it at million, but then you see a spectacular place and all of a sudden the agent knows you're good for a million three. Of course, there are caveats agents hate hearing: You can't buy until you sell; I'm waiting for an inheritance; or my wife and I have different ideas on where to live.

When you buy with a good agent, he or she doesn't mind introducing you to areas and houses you wouldn't have otherwise chosen. I appreciate our agent taking the time to do this. It's been a good investment for her, though, because we're ready to act decisively now that we're familiar with the market. This time around, it's been a relief not to have an agent push us into buying. Our agent likes architecture, appreciates our sensibilities, and enjoys looking at stuff with us. But our dating is about to end as we've found two places we like — it's getting serious.

Then there's the horrible necessity to sell. This process starts with advice about what your place is worth. The agent says, "You could list it for two million but no one will look at it as it's really worth ... the figure quoted is always much less than you want to hear. Some ditch several agents at this stage before they reconcile themselves to the saleable value of their home.

Then comes the strip search. The agent goes through your home — often with associates — critiquing it, as if you weren't in the room. The word "interesting" comes up a lot. Then the place is photographed with lots of conversation about what angle makes it look bigger, less dilapidated or otherwise more appealing. The final insult is a warning that the market is slow and not to expect much. At this stage, you've had enough realism and would gladly switch to a less competent salesperson who would mislead you with false hope, insincerely laud the fabulousness of your home, and tell you that it will sell within the week for more than listing price.

I hear from my "buying" agent most everyday. I haven't heard from the "selling" agent in 10 days, although the housekeeper tells me there's been a showing. Understandably, the buying agent has good news about more wonderful places for us to see, and the other agent doesn't want to deliver the message we're not moving anywhere just yet.

 Kelvin Browne – National Post Sat Oct 16, 2010