Three Hours of Paradise

The alarm sounds off as I awake in a fury

My head is throbbing and my vision blurry

My throat is dry and I’m still in my jeans

Sunday morning you know what that means

 

For the fifth week in a row at the same open house

Where nobody comes, no human or mouse

Flags and signs rattle in the depths of my trunk

As I drive in my car with my livelihood shrunk

 

I pull up to the home to my utter dismay

The owner is home, like he is every day

“Hello Broke Agent why is it not selling?”

Look Mr. Seller “there’s just no way of telling” 

 

Automatic responses engraved in my brain

For he is unrealistic and clearly insane

It is way overpriced with no curb appeal

And the owner won’t budge so no chance at a deal

 

So I turn on the lights and unlock the doors

Put my business cards out and sweep up the floors

Then lean back on the wall and I whip out my phone

As I prepare to be bored and for 3 hours alone

 

Almost halfway through with my sign-in sheet bare

I sink deeper and deeper into a chair

A slight knock at the door breaks up my trance

In enters Cheryl and her fiancé Lance

 

“First time here?” With a smile I greet

“Yes just looking we live right down the street!”

“Fantastic,” I say. My eyes roll in my head

“Take a look around there’s a bathroom and bed” 

 

Are you in the market? Are you looking to buy?

What is your budget? What style and why?

I ask all my questions with a shit-eating grin

Until I hear “what school district is this in?”

 

 I shake and I sweat like I’m riddled with flu

With a slight hesitation, I say “no fucking clue”

Just write me an offer or leave me in peace

But if you’re not looking to buy I’ll show you a lease