Nice Going--You’ve Spoiled All Our Fun

Sadly, our nation is in a recession. You can sense the despair on the streets.

And, now, things are really getting ugly.

People have suddenly become nice .

Take my bank, a place where I had come to look forward to that all-purpose conversation starter, “How do you want it?”

Now a sign at the teller’s window alerts me to the new rules. If the teller fails to call me by name, I get cash in return.

So I’m thinking that this is a good sign. My transaction takes some work. The teller needs to consult. When she returns, the wrinkles on her forehead are a bit more pronounced. She looks like she’s seen better days.

Then, finally, she hands me my money. And turns the knife.

“See you again, Ms. Klein,” she says, all smiles.

There’s a gleam in her eyes.

All right, all right. I know nothing is for free. Goodwill, certainly, doesn’t come cheap. Especially if you’re in a business with what they call long-term gains.

Our local real estate agents come to mind. This is an inventive group.

Most of them have realized that the note pads (Hey, great photo, you of the multimillion-dollar club!) are getting a little old.

In our neighborhood, they’ve tried a lot: greeting cards (who was that lovely Columbus Day card from?), refrigerator magnets, American flags and several helpful reminders about what happened to poor Mrs. Heimlich when her husband caught her trying to scarf the last piece of See’s candy.

All of which has been just fine.

But, I don’t know, I think the potential is there for so much more, something that could really set these guys apart in tough economic times.

Services.

Now, there’s something that could be worth its weight in goodwill when you’re thinking about whom you want camping at your place for seven months of Sunday open house.

Litter-box cleaning? Call your agent, at Century 21.

Sort your recyclables? We’re there for you at Remax.

As you know, time is money and, let’s face it, real estate people seem to have more of it than ever these days.

Time, I mean. The money was last cycle.

I noticed this just the other weekend.

My husband and I thought we’d stop by a new development near our house, the one that keeps sending us these increasingly provocative brochures and postcards, glossy, in full color.

The last offer was something along the lines of, “Come, buy one (or more) of our beautiful homes! We’ll buy yours, no questions asked. M-I-C See you real soon! K-E-Y Why? Because we love you! M-O-U-S-E.”

So we drive on over. I mean, just for the heck of it.

Which, of course, is what anyone trying to sell a house absolutely hates. I understand this. In fact, I applaud this.

Because the very last thing you want is some neighbor , probably wearing shorts and flip-flops, tromping through your house with absolutely no intention of buying anything, taking up your time and probably looking in your medicine cabinets or God knows where else.

Right. Except, see, this was different.

It was only my husband who was wearing the shorts and flip-flops, and these being model homes, well, believe me, there was nothing in the medicine cabinets.

All right, so we walk up to the model office, and there we find the model sales associate. Naturally, she is outfitted with a winning smile and the full panty hose sales associate regalia. And, our luck, she is alone!

So she devotes to us her full attention. She hands us more brochures. She suggests that we might want to act fast. She points to the little bitty plastic models and shows us how, with just four more pushpins, why, this whole row will be sold!

And, through it all, of course, she is very nice.

Which, call me a spoilsport, left me feeling a bit sad.

I mean, if you can’t make guilt-free fun of real estate people, times are indeed very tough.

Dianne Klein’s column appears Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday. Readers may reach Klein by writing to her at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7406.