This landed on my doorstep the other day. We'll get to the rest of the picture in a second.
It's a solicitation from a local real estate broker.
If you've driven around West LA, Mar Vista or Culver City, you've seen George's ubiquitous signs. He sells houses all across the spectrum. From $1 million 2 bedroom fixer uppers (sarcasm intentional) to $5 million McMansions overlooking the layer of smog that sits atop Santa Monica Bay.
I have no intention of selling my house, which I've now owned for 25 years -- that's right since I was 19 years old. But if I did, I don't think I'd be calling on George, who until now had just been some unseen name on a placard.
It has nothing to do with his ethnicity. In the politically incorrect vernacular of Kayla Moore, "I have many friends who are Orientals (again intentional, for pointed effect)."
It has much more to do with his odd closed-fisted stance.
His awkward grimace.
And that damn cowboy hat.
On top of all that, among hundreds of still photos presented to him, he chose this one for his public debut. That's just not the kind of business acumen I'm looking for in a real estate agent. Or a plumber. Or even the busboy at Pacos Tacos on Centinela.
Also, dude, what's with the shoes? Even I know how to pick better shoes than that.
1 comment:
The funny thing is it (the hat, shoes and grimace) might work for a certain segment of the market. He doesn't look that slimy, whereas a million other agents are all too shiny and slippery. The thing that threw me though was his own name above the door of the house with the "Sold" sign out the front. Ah well. All power to him.
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