An hour after we finished, Shimon called me. While he’d originally agreed to pay the full price, he now — at his father’s recommendation — wanted to pay a very different sum, far less than the market price.

“You’re just not going to get the house,” I told him bluntly.

“Why not?”

“Well, this is the hottest neighborhood, and three people were waiting to go inside as we saw it.” I paused. “You know what, let me call your mortgage lender to see if there are any terms we can offer that might make this offer more enticing.” This is a standard step when trying to negotiate a deal.

“Um, our mortgage lender is a relative. I’m not sure I’m so comfortable with that.”

“Up to you — think about it.” And with that, I ended the conversation.

A short while later, he called back, and told me his father was also on the line. The senior Mr. Kleinberg started yelling. “Why on earth are you asking to speak to my son’s mortgage lender? I’m a real estate agent myself, and let me tell you, this a very strange request.”

It was 4:15 in the afternoon, and I was out outside with all my kids. A minute later he said, “This is an extremely rude conversation — I hear people in the background. Can you get rid of them so I can talk to you properly?” I should have put him in his place right then. But I was caught off guard, I asked my neighbor to watch my kids and ran into the house.

He continued his rant. “My children do not work for you, you work for them. Why are you making things so complicated? All you care about is making a sale. You’re dishonest and pushy.”

Finally, there was a break in the yelling. “Do you want me to explain myself?” I asked.

“No, I don’t.”

“Okay, well, thanks for calling.” And I hung up.

I called Shimon right away. “Nobody talks to me like that,” I told him. “If this is how your father is going to treat me, you can find someone else to work with. I am not willing to put up with abuse.”

“My father can get a little rough sometimes,” he said apologetically. “I was so impressed with how you handled him.”

“That call was completely inappropriate. And if your father is going to be involved in this deal, I can’t work with you anymore. Let me know. I wish you all the best either way.”

Two hours later I got a call from Baila. She was crying.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she said. “I walked in while my father-in-law was yelling at you. I’m really sorry. We like you and want to work with you. But he’s giving us a lot of money and he’s calling the shots.”

I told her I understood, but her father-in-law had been aggressive and called me names and I couldn’t work in such an environment. Mr. Kleinberg stood firm in the way he wanted to do things, and the Kleinbergs took their business elsewhere.

That wasn’t the first time I stood up to a bully in my business. But it was the first time I realized that no amount of money would be enough to justify working with someone abusive. When people accuse you of being dishonest when you’re just trying to help them, you shouldn’t continue working with them. Realizing that and standing up for myself was a great learning experience. I lost the sale, but I gained self-respect.

You need a thick skin in this business. You put your kishkes into it — and sometimes that investment is paid back with nastiness. But you can’t take it personally.

I’m on a chat for a bunch of frum Realtors, and one of the women on the chat often takes things personally and gets hurt and insulted. What I wish I could tell her is: This isn’t about you. Hurt people hurt people.

As in so many areas in life, we have to let go of the people who are nasty or mistreating us. Then, we’ll be left with those who appreciate the effort we’re putting in for them, and work will be energizing and enjoyable.

to be continued…

Nechama “Nicky” Norman is a licensed real estate agent servicing greater Lakewood, New Jersey. She focuses on residential property and loves to educate people about buying and selling by hosting seller events.

Keyed In

Don’t tell a professional how to do their job — and this applies in every field. If you hire someone, you want their expertise — let them be the expert. A professional knows their industry well and will do a fantastic job when they feel they’ve earned your trust; micromanaging shows a lack of trust and strains the relationship.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 814)