This afternoon, upon showing one of my listings to a buyer’s agent and her customers, I arrived fifteen minutes earlier to open up the condo. Then, I went  down to the lobby to meet the buyer party. 

As I approached the lobby’s entrance door, the agent hurried inside clutching her papers against her chest with her left arm while holding her cell phone with the other hand and firing rounds of words, about 100 per second.  Then, she abruptly excused herself from her phone conversation to end it with “…I’ll call you like later.”

The attractive agent appeared to be about 26-28 years old,  5′ 4′” with the help of  elevated shoes, thin yet well proportionally fit sporting a tight medium blue cocktail dress harmonized by mid-length curlied light brown hair hilighted with frosting streaks and perfectly held in place with hair mousse as if she spent hours sculpting the do.   Unfortunately, the pretty package was aromatized with a mixture of perfume and heavy cigarette smoke. 

Standing by the door,  she walked towards me and, in one breath, she introduced herself and began explaining how her journey to this building turned into an ordeal.  What was difficult to understand in that storm of words was the word like being repeatedly missused over and over again as if everything she tried to convey needed to be exampled so I could understand her delivery: “…We have to wait for my customers because it’s like, oh!  They couldn’t meet me at my office and I was like stressed out.  So, we decided to meet like at the condo. 

We sat down in the lobby chairs waiting for her customers.  She proceeded to tell me how she recently embarked in the real estate profession, again  in one breath, she poured out at the speed of light:  “… While in college, I took like business administration and real estate.  It was like intense.  I am so glad I graduated, last year.  It was like, wow! I am like happy it’s all over over with…”

The customers finally arrived, 10 minutes late.   A 40-something casual couple with a 13 year old well mannered daughter.

We all went upstairs to the unit and everyone was drawn to the spectacular Intracoastal water views.  “…Check out this view down the Intracoastal, you guys.  It’s like, awesome!  I could like live here, easy!”  She exclaimed with animation. 

Throughout the visit, the agent kept a disarming friendly and genuine smile complementing her bubbly, outgoing personality.  What was odd is at the end of the tour she didn’t use the word like when she asked her customers: “What do you think of this place?”

After we all parted company, I thought, maybe,  if she were to drop the word like out of her speech, it would probably impair her ability to express herself with ease;  thus,  handicap her overall personality.  It would be like removing the “F” word out of auto mechanics’ lingo.”

Actually, I really  like the agent – and she will do well in this business.