Mo’ real estate agents, mo’ problems

No visits today, but I did meet with three new real estate agents.  The first was very concerned with our wishlist, telling me it would be a difficult find (at our budget, in the Montparnasse neighborhood).  He also made a very bizarre remark.  I had my dog with me, and he did the standard, oh is it a girl or a boy, what’s its name, etc.  And when I replied that it was a une fifi (little girl), he exclaimed Oh la la je ne touche jamais les filles and wouldn’t pet her.

The second woman was insupportable but stupidly I agreed to let her show me an apartment because I was so drawn by the address – Boulevard Edgar Quinet, overlooking the market, I die I die I die.  And within our budget!  But she wouldn’t discuss prior comps (“je ne reviens jamais en arrière” – “I never look back”), and when I asked her how long this particular apartment had been on the market she got very defensive and replied “ça ne change rien.”  Yes, she actually had the nerve to tell me, with a straight face, that it doesn’t matter how long an apartment has been for sale.  And then she wouldn’t even tell me the FULL ADDRESS of the apartment I’m looking at “je ne partage jamais mes adresses.”  When I asked her to specify at least which part of the blvd it’s on, since the blvd is pretty long, she just waved her hand and said within walking distance of the metro.  Regretting getting involved with her but the more apartments I visit, the more I learn, that’s my mantra.

The final agent, a darling elderly gentleman at an agency in the Marais, told me that I was searching for une perle rare but that he would contact me as soon as something came in and if I was lucky that would be within the next three weeks.


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