I could have negotiated this deal in 10 minutes if you had put me in a room with him. This is what I hear. I hear it often. This is the refrain of those negotiating pros who buy and sell real estate through a broker. When a deal comes together, I hear this. When a deal falls apart, I hear it then, too. I hear it so much I hear it when I close my eyes and I hear it again when I open them. That one kid heard dead people, I hear this.
Many buyers and sellers feel that the deals could come together if only they had a chance to handle the deal directly. This might often be the case- that the deal would come together in spite of a broker, not because of one. But this assumes that the deal was an easy one to put together, that neither side needing the convincing that can only come from a market backed perspective. This also assumes that both sides are in a hurry to make a deal, which is generally far from the case. Consider, some of the best deals I’ve put together have come together only as a result of long enduring negotiations. Time might heal most wounds, but it also bridges many negotiations that might have failed if they were on the clock.
In 2010, I negotiated the purchase side of 1014 South Lakeshore Drive, Fontana. That deal started slowly, as many do, and after a few months of negotiations, we had an accepted contract. Then we negotiated throughout the deal, over another three months, and finally closed on the transaction. What a fantastic deal that was. And many more like it have come about the same way- only through buy side patience, as a seller is worn down through a recognition that his or her property is just not quite as desirable as originally thought.
The problem with this, of course, is that 2010 was a year void of an abundance of buyers and 2016, though the year has started ominously with indices in an funk, has an abundance of such vacation home buyers. Long enduring negotiations only work in the absence of a competing bid. Lately, there have been competing bids.
Two weeks ago I was going to show a listing on Bonnie Brae to a buyer of mine. We set up the showing, we were ready to pounce on a property that was purported to be able to be bought right. We ended up canceling our showing, because the property sold earlier that week to a buyer that had just a bit more motivation, or schedule flexibility, than we did. A year ago this month I negotiated an offer on a lakefront listing I had on Oriole Lane. That humble, odd home, didn’t sell in 2015, but throughout the year my buyer reaffirmed their earlier offer. The sellers didn’t bite.
Then, a couple of weeks ago, a change in seller sentiment, and our deal was ready to be locked. On Friday, we had a deal in principle, on Saturday, the seller took a bid from another buyer. I had negotiated patiently with a lakefront buyer for exactly 12 months, and when victory was nearly ours, the property sold to another buyer. Sniped, again.
This week, a deal on an off-water home in Glenwood Springs was apparently nearly complete. A buyer of mine who had seen that home in the summer of 2015, inquired of the property. It was available, I told him, but nearly under contract. He jumped, we offered, we have the property under contract and the other buyer, the one who was patiently working the seller to his favor, is on the outside looking in. This is the trouble with negotiating slowly. It leaves open too many variables beyond the negotiator’s control.
Of course, the most important aspect of any negotiation is in sensing the direction of the market and its response to that particular property. That’s not quite as easy as it might sound. In the case of the Oriole Lane property, I wrongly assumed that time was on my side. I assumed that a property that had languished on the open market for years would not sell in the dead of a Wisconsin winter, on the heels of a volatile week in the markets. I was wrong. So today, a quick admonition. If you like a property, watch it with me, and we’ll work to strangle the seller together (figuratively, of course). If you love a property, buy it, before someone else does.