Today, I want to share why I think you should interview real estate agents before hiring one. Why You Should Interview Real Estate Agents Truth be told, I have only purchased one house and I’m in the process of selling it. My husband and I thought long and hard about whether we would try to sell our property on our own or hire someone to represent us. In the end, we chose the latter. If you have ever shared with friends or family that you’re looking for a home or thinking of selling your own, most everyone says something along the lines of, “Oh! I know a realtor I can recommend!” Many of you may know a real estate agent personally as well. I still think it makes sense to interview any prospective agents because they are being paid by you. When you hire someone to do work on your home, you get estimates and gather information about how and when the work will be done. When you are looking for babysitters, you meet them and see how they’ll interact with your child. When you’re an employer, you interview any potential employees. Don’t Take The Easy Route with Previous Agents and Friends Just because a friend is a realtor, doesn’t mean they’ll be the best real estate agent for you. Just because a friend recommends their realtor to you, doesn’t mean you have to hire him/her. It’s business and nobody should take it personally. Interviewing real estate agents just makes sense. Oftentimes, people don’t. Why not just use the realtor that sold you the house you’re currently in? Well, you can. But do you know how that realtor handles business when they are the listing agent versus the buyer’s agent? Do you know if they’ll want to pursue the option to be a dual agent (and double their commission)? Why not interview them while interviewing others? It won’t hurt. How long will it take to find a realtor you trust  A. a year  B. not enough information  C. a few weeks  D. a day
C
(Question)
The office smelled like money. Brand new carpet, somebody's expensive perfume still hanging in the air. The chairs in the waiting room are leather and the copy machine has a million attachments and there's pictures on the wall that I don't know what they're supposed to be. Made me ashamed of the shirt I was wearing, the cuffs all frayed and some of the buttons don't match. The secretary is a knockout and I figure Dennis has got to be getting in her pants. Red hair and freckles and shiny skin that looks like she just got out of a hot shower. A smile like she really means it. My name was in the book and she showed me right on in. Dennis shook my hand and put me in a chair that was slings and tube steel. The calendar next to his desk had a ski scene on it. Behind him was solid books, law books all in the same binding, also some biographies and political stuff. "Too bad you couldn't make the reunion," Dennis said. "It was a hoot." "I just felt weird about it," I said. I still did. It looked like he wanted me to go on, so I said, "I knew there'd be a bunch of y'all there that had really made good, and I guess I...I don't know. Didn't want to have to make excuses." "Hard to believe it's been twenty years. You look good. I still wouldn't want to run into you in a dark alley, but you look fit. In shape." "I got weights in the garage, I try to work out. When you're my size you can go to hell pretty quick. You look like you're doing pretty good yourself." Charlene is always pointing to people on TV and talking about the way they dress. With Dennis I could see for the first time what she's talking about. The gray suit he had on looked like part of him, like it was alive. When I think about him in grungy sweats back at Thomas Jefferson High School, bent double from trying to run laps, it doesn't seem like the same guy. What color was Dennis's suit?  A. black  B. blue  C. not enough information  D. gray
(Answer)
D
Ques: I have never had a lot of money. But I don’t believe you have to have a lot for it to become burdensome. Money has always seemed to be a burden. Either you have it and the obligation and responsibility becomes a burden (so I’ve been told, ha) or you don’t have it and life without money becomes a burden. I guess money became a burden to me when I started paying my own bills. Let me explain. I raised my 2 girls by myself. I was fortunate to have a good job as an office manager for a doctor in Dallas. I was able to pay my bills and juggle things around to afford what the girls needed for school and what not. When I didn’t have money for something they wanted I felt like I carried the world on my shoulders. I didn’t let them know how stressful it all was because I felt like it was none of their business. They were kids and needed to be kids. They would soon enough be feeling the stress of managing their own household and shouldn’t be asked to help shoulder that burden as kids. Once, me and my youngest daughter, who was an adult at this time, went to a drive in fast food place and got a couple of drinks. My daughter was treating me and when the car hop came to deliver the drinks, my daughter gave her $5.00 as a tip, which was more than the drinks! I, of course, asked why she did that and she told me that they live off their tips and she knew what that was like having been a waitress before. I said something about her needing the money as well and how money makes the world go around. She said “No, Mom, you can be dead-assed broke and the world is still going to go around.” That was when I quit letting money be a burden. What school did her daughters attend?  A. not enough information  B. home school  C. public school  D. private school
Ans: A
Ques: SHE moved through the crowded streets like she owned the place. Hell, if things went as planned in the coming months, she might in fact own the place. Or some other place if that's what she wanted. If things went as planned, there was no limit to what she could have. She smiled to herself as a crowd of sunburned, middle-aged men broke ranks to let her pass on her way toward Mallory Square. They had no idea who she was, but she liked to think that they could sense her strength and that it intimidated them. Not enough to stop them from staring openly at her chest of course, but what did she expect? They were still men. Duval Street, Key West's main tourist drag, buzzed with early evening activity. The sun had set less than an hour ago, and the throngs moving up from the nightly sunset ritual in Mallory Square now wandered about, trying to choose between the dozens of bars and restaurants vying for their attention. She moved against the general flow and seemed to know exactly where she was going. She knew these streets well and had planned out her route ahead of time. But something bothered her. That nagging feeling in the back of her brain that she'd long ago learned to heed even though it was wrong as often as it was right. You couldn't survive in her world without learning to pay attention to such feelings, and she'd more than survived - she'd prospered beyond the dreams of any young hacker or con artist. Heeding the subliminal warning, she changed plans and stepped out into the crawling Duval Street traffic. A purple taxi honked angrily but she just smiled as she strode across the street and stared intently at a display of cheap, tasteless T-shirts in a storefront window. When did she go to Mallory Square?  A. During her lunch  B. not enough information  C. Before sunset  D. After the sunset
Ans:
D