Sunday, December 16, 2007


  1. Apparently, I now work in Alberto's crew. I haven't discussed this with my Managing Broker yet nor have I contacted the Chicago Association of Realtors for licensing specifics but you better believe both of these tasks are on my To Do list. If I have to pay yet another set of fees, this time to The Latin Kings, then I want to know what I'm getting for my money (although to be honest, I don't remember even joining a street gang). And I'm pretty sure the tax-deductible donation I made to the Jewish Defense League earlier this month doesn't qualify as 'kicking up' to a homey.

    Or perhaps I'm just jumping to conclusions. Maybe Alberto just wants a little taste, so to speak. Perhaps a referral fee. Maybe he is the regional representative for the national relocation company I'm presently doing a deal with. I don't know. He wrote all over the side door as well. He seems pretty pissed about something.

The truth of the matter is, I don't really care who I pay a fee to as long as I get something back for my money. Some trackable results. Maybe Alberto represents some emerging market I'm not aware of. Maybe he's been trying to page me and just never got through. After all, the pay phone at the end of my block has been out of order for three years. He probably just got tired of playing phone tag and decided to tag a building instead.

And if what I suspect is, in fact, true---I hope that I can at least get CE credits for watching "Snoop Dogg's Father Hood" on the E! Channel. I'm not sure if Alberto is down with that or not but hey, that's life on the real estate streets of Chicago. And if Alberto is indeed a drug dealer to boot, I only hope he's not a discount broker. Or...maybe he's just a moron with a magic marker.

Geno Petro

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