“Wanda” seems like an appropriate appellation for the broker who my client and I encountered the other day.
She was showing an apartment for another broker (call him “Sam”), whose three telephone calls from my client (before he became my client) that broker had ignored for two days. It was in frustration that my buyer realized he needed someone to represent him.
At the appointed time, we walked into the Upper West Side co-op, which is on the market for seven figures. That’s when I became the recipient of her fish-eyed glare. Continue reading