…or a hate-on for Realtors?

A recent experience with a deliberately unhelpful concierge reminded me of another story that I just have to tell…

If somebody stopped you while walking down the street and said, “Excuse me?  Which way is Yonge Street?”  Would you help them?  Or would you say, “I don’t know,” even if you were standing ten feet from the street sign?

I mean, if that person said, “Which way is Yonge Street……and can you please spare some change for drugs?”  You would be well within your right to ignore that person or just walk away.

But if the question was simple: “Which way is Yonge Street?”  And if the person was polite, smiling, and harmless, wouldn’t you simply point to your left and say “That way”?

60 St. Clair Avenue West is the site of this most recent story.

I’m giving out the address because, in addition to having no reason not to, I’d like to know if anybody else has encountered the same problem.

This is a fantastic building in a great location, and I’ve only heard positive things.  The prices are quite reasonable, given the ridiculous prices down the street at new “luxury” projects like 112 St. Clair West, and other than a lack of views and/or balconies, there is nothing I don’t like.

As you know, if you’ve ever been an active buyer working with a Realtor, finding the lockbox is always an adventure.  It’s like “Where’s Waldo” but it’s not fun, and it’s not for kids.  And, the curse words uttered aren’t for kids either!

Finding lockboxes can be a frustrating experience.  In most condos, they’re usually in the stairwell, at the front desk, or on a railing out front of the building.  In many instances, however, they’re anywhere other than you might think.  “LBX Located On Fire Hydrant Across From Wendy’s” is an instruction you might see on your blackberry.

Well, at 60 St. Clair Avenue West, the building (either property management, the condominium’s board of directors, or both) has decided to install a lockbox-cabinet outside the premises, affixed to the wall on the east side.  The cabinet has a combination, and inside the cabinet are hooks with many lockboxes.  The idea is a great one, and it represents a central place where lockboxes can be left that is NOT inside the building.

When I went to do a showing at 60 St. Clair Avenue after this cabinet was first installed, I went inside and asked the concierge if he knew where it was.

I mean, he’s the concierge, he’s there all day, and Realtors come and go every single day – so he MUST know where it is.

I was polite, cheerful, and in my own version of “Which way is Yonge Street?” I simply asked, “Do you know where I can find the lockbox cabinet?”  I knew it was most likely on the outside of the building on the east side, since that’s where the alleyway is, but I figured I’d just ask!

The concierge replied, “No, I do not.”

I found that odd, given that unless this is his first day, he must have been asked this question before, and so I inquired, “Well this is a hot unit – I’m sure there have been showings.  Where do agents go to get the keys?  It’s outside – but is it to the left, the right?”

He looked up at me, and with a deliberately-straight face, he said, “I don’t know, and I can’t say.”

Man, that was weird.  I felt like he was spiting me for some reason, but that couldn’t be right, since I just met him.

In any event, I went outside and retrieved the keys from the lockbox cabinet – which was on the east side, as I suspected, and when I went back inside, before ushering my clients through the lobby and up to the suite, I said to the concierge, “By the way – the lockboxes are on the east side – there’s a cabinet there.  Just thought you should know for future reference.”

As I suspected, he responded with, “I know, thanks.  Don’t you think I know that?  I’m here every day, I know where the damn cabinet is.  But what you don’t realize is that I can’t be talking to you about that.  I can’t get involved – that’s between you and the other Realtors and brokerages and buyers and sellers.  That’s not my business.”

It made no sense.

First of all, he’s wrong.  He’s a concierge, and I’m sure if somebody asked, “Where is the garbage chute?”  He wouldn’t respond with, “That’s between you and Waste Management.”

He was being deliberately unhelpful, for no good reason, and that’s worse than if he was accidentally too helpful.

But the story I was reminded of is one that I’ll never forget.  It got me in trouble years later when I was overheard calling the concierge a “bitch” to my own client, and some old-man Realtor took down my name and said he was going to “get me into trouble.”

39 Jarvis Street – another fantastic building in a great location!

They’ve always been ridiculously overzealous when it comes to security, and it was all due to ONE security-lady (she wasn’t a concierge, so I can’t call her that) who was soon fired for, dare I say, being too overzealous in many respects.

I went to show a condo one afternoon a few years ago, around noon, and when I arrived, the security-lady took my business card and stared at it.

She said, “You don’t have a photo on your business card.”

I said, “No, I don’t.”

She said, “Well then how do I know you are….David Fleming?”

I came prepared, so I handed her my RECO licence (a silly scrap of paper we’re required to carry).  She looked at it as well and said, “You don’t have your photo on this either.  You’ve just given me two pieces of ID, neither of which confirm that you are who you say you are.”

Wow, talk about giving a person a hard time.  I suppose she had a point, but REALLY?

I pleaded my case with her for a few minutes but she wasn’t going to budge.  I said, “Is it possible that I’m not David Fleming, but I took his business card, his RECO ID, and then I dressed up in this suit and hired this guy to pretend to be my client – all to gain access to the building so I could get up to no good?”

I honestly don’t even remember what she said, but it didn’t matter.

I ran home, got my driver’s license (which wasn’t in my pocket because I had walked to the building, down the street from me), and returned to the condo.

When I walked back in, the security-lady said, “Hi, may I help you?”  She either didn’t remember who I was, which would have been bizarre, or she did, in which case she was being unhelpful.

I handed her my driver’s license and said, “Here is the photo ID you require.  You’ve got my business card, and I’ve got an appointment that I really need to attend to.”

And then she dropped the bombshell.  She said, “I’m sorry, but your appointment was from 12pm to 12:30pm, and it’s now 12:35pm.”

I wanted to say, “Well that’s because some bitch made me go back to my condo and get my ID,” but I didn’t.

Again – maybe she was right.  Maybe I was late for my appointment, and the previous 35 minutes weren’t important.  But REALLY?

I called the listing agent directly, and he freaked when I told him that the concierge was playing games.  He too knew that she was a real piece of work, and he actually apologized to me!

About six months later, that security-lady was gone.  Word on the street is that too many people finally had enough of her power-tripping and playing God, but I can’t be sure.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: the person at your front desk, whether a “concierge,” a “security guard,” or a “desk attendant,” should be there to H-E-L-P.  These are not police officers, and they’re not statues.  They should smile and be as helpful as possible.

But something tells me I’ll encounter a handful of these situations, every year, for the rest of my career….

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I just realized that I’ve told this story before!

I looked through my archives and I can’t find it, but upon proof-reading, I distinctly recall writing that line about “…some bitch made me go back to my condo.”

Does anybody remember this story?  I’ve got 1,000 posts so I can’t go through them all.

I digress…