digital pen, digital paper.

Articles of Confession

Prior to the purchase of my home, I spent a solid two years searching the real estate market around southeast Orlando. What I learned was that not a single of the perhaps ten realtors with whom I came into contact was easy to work with. They asked too many questions involving my finances, and refused to show a house unless they expressly represented me in a transaction.

I am capable of finding houses on the market within my price range. I am capable of assessing the quality of a home by setting foot into it. I do not need your sales pitch. I do not need you to search for more houses that you think I will like. And you certainly do not need to know my income if I have done all of the prep work to secure financing.

Why can’t these realtors just show up, fulfill their responsibility to the seller by showing the house, and fill in a dollar amount and date on the standard issue purchase contract when I want to make an offer? You do not deserve to double your commission when I am the one putting in all the effort and you are only unlocking a door and filling in a form.

There were several houses in which I had significant interest that were left unseen because of the refusal of the realtor. If I were the seller, I would be pissed and ask how the realtor expected to sell a house without showing it!

As result, I have formed poor opinion of all realtors. Ten was a large enough sample to develop a generalization of these so called professionals. My frustration grew to such levels that I not only wished to keep them from gaining commission from me, but the idea of keeping any money out of their pockets gave me satisfaction.

For this primary reason, I decided to get my real estate license. If the morons I had to deal with could get a license, I certainly could with minimal effort.

A quick visit to the Department of Professionals website listed the tasks to accomplish.

• Step one, complete a 63-hour educational course and achieve 70% correct on a 100-question end-of-course exam. Course fee: $190.
• Step two, submit electronic fingerprints for State and FBI record. Submission fee: $60.
• Step three, submit application for approval to take State Licensing Exam. Application fee: $105.
• Step four, pass 100-question State Licensing Exam, achieving 75% correct. Exam fee: $40.
• Step five, complete a 45-hour post licensure educational course and end-of-course exam. Course fee: $130.

The first course took some time, but little effort. Fingerprinting and the application were simple enough. Everything was smooth sailing until, prior to scheduling the State Licensing Exam, I tried some practice exams. They did not go over well, and it had nothing to do with knowledge of the material. Apparently, it is common for the State to utilize trick questions in all professional exams. Not only were they worded for confusion, but many were also matters of opinion with a few good answers, but only one they would accept as correct.

I reviewed all of the course material a few times over and made an appointment with the testing center. Waivering confidence flowed through me, and I almost gained respect for the real estate professionals who had already passed their exams. Almost. If they could get a license, I could certainly pass this exam and get mine.

Two forms of photo I.D., an affidavit signature, and literally emptying my pockets of everything except for my drivers license, granted entrance into the computer-lab exam room. Every question was 4-option multiple choice. In most cases, careful reading, understanding of vocabulary, and basic common sense led to the answer. However, there were a number in which two choices could immediately be discarded, and the other two options were both correct, but one was somehow more correct. Sometimes, differences between the two answers were as minor as the additional of a simple phrase or the changing of an “and” to an “or” in the wording.

The software allowed earmarking of questions for self-review before submitting all answers. As I tested, I answered each question, but still marked the ones that were trick questions that I was concerned about. Halfway through the exam, a review revealed 15 questions earmarked. If the trend followed, 30 in total, I would not achieve the passing score of 75% assuming I miss all 30 (which felt likely at the time). This reduced my confidence further.

Finally, after 90 minutes of the allotted 3½ hours, I concluded all 100. Another review revealed a total of 17 questions earmarked. Only two during the second half of the exam! Even if every of the 17 were incorrect, that was still good enough for a passing grade. So I click submit, log out of the computer, and give my I.D. and signature to exit the exam room. The administrators do not really say much, but print out a piece of paper and set it face-down on the front desk for me. By State Law, they are not allowed to know my result unless I tell them.

I would think they would know every persons result by watching their reaction to reading either of those four-letter words, PASS or FAIL. I, on the other hand, showed no excitment or distress. I only looked at the paper, read it over momentarily, then gathered my belongings from the provided locker and left the building. I can only imagine what the administrators were thinking, and it makes me laugh. How can a person have no reaction like that?

Passing was of course important to me, but not in a joyous sort of way. I had, after all, invested significant time and almost $400 with another $130 to go. Plus another 30 days and $40 if I failed the exam. Passing was only to relieve the stress of having to pass. It was inevitable. When I picked up that paper, there was no number or percentage grade, but the paper did read this:

Exam result: PASS.

Time to start stealing money from you other realtors. My fee: $0. My commission: 0% or Deducted from the sale price.

I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces. That is when I will feel the joy.