A sales call delayed my departure from my real estate office to a listing presentation in a retirement community in a Phoenix, Arizona suburb.

Hurrying, I found that the dead end street on which my appointment was located was partially blocked by traffic barricades. Not wanting to be late and with few minutes to spare and seeing no apparant problem, I eased my car through the open portion of the barricades. A slight bump advised me that road work extended through that open portion, but nothing seemed amiss so I continued to the home a few doors down.

The listing pressentation went well. The elderly couple were friendly, chatty and seemed receptive to me. Then the door bell rang. Answering the door the wife told me that the man there wished to talk to the owner of the car parked outside. A very red faced, irate workman immediately began yelling at me in Spanish. It was apparant that he was very much displeased with me, but much more than that was not very clear as I am not bilingual. He eventually left and I continued with my presentation.

We had now reached that touchy portion of the presentation that dealt with ascertaining the homes worth, when again the door bell rang. Again there was a gentleman to see me, who this time came into the home. He explained excitedly that I had driven through a trough of wet concrete that the men had just finished pouring. They had left to buy drinks and had come back to find their work partially demolished. Tire tracks of wet concrete had led them right to the culprit.

Very embarrased and more than fearful that my offence might be one that could get me arrested, I still managed to keep my composure in front of the potential clients. I apologised profusely for the extra work I had caused, but was insistent that because a space had been left wide enough to receive my car and no hint of a sign was hung to warn me I would be driving through wet concrete, that it was a mistake waiting to happen. I gained support in this argument from my potential clients and the work supervisor finally left in disgust to make his report.

I signed that couple to a six month exclusive listing and gratefully drove back to the office after discovering that my fear that my car wheels would be locked up in quick dry concrete had not materialized. I explained to my Broker that we might get a complaint letter and even possibly a bill from the City, but that did not happen either. Other than causing hilarity at the next meeting, the incident finally subsided. I learned two valuable lessons though.

1. Do not drive through barricades even if there is a space big enough for the car to pass through.

2. Keep your concentration when on sales call. The manner in which you handle the disruption could land you the sale.