The Continuing Story of Wet Blanket Ron – Part 10, in which Ron gets a job
Wet Blanket Ron does not expect to get the job at Webber, King and Drewett. He doesn’t anticipate that he will even get an interview. After all, WKD is a blue-chip estate agency, and he has no experience of selling houses. Ron has only applied because the job centre has insisted he apply for three positions a week, or his benefits will be cut. He doesn’t really want a job as he has had nothing but bad experiences of working. An endless catalogue of failure and humiliation. He is therefore only applying for posts for which he does not have the qualifications. Estate Agents are near the top of the list as they require staff who are energetic, confident, and outgoing. Ron is none of these things. Nor does he have the wardrobe necessary for face-to-face encounters. He stands no chance.
And yet, he is hired. This despite his turning up for the interview late in what could best be described as oily dungarees. WKD has experienced a dip in sales lately that their great rivals Beazer Grylls have not. To add to this, there is the competition from all the new kids on the block. The ones with all-singing, all-dancing websites and designer T-boards that light up at night. The ones who do not need an office to operate from. These Johnny-come-latelys are stealing clients from under their noses.
Nic King suggests a radical new approach is needed if Webber, King and Drewett are to survive. A gimmick to get them noticed. Something that their rivals have not thought of. When showing a prospective buyer around a property, WKD could perhaps send along a demotivated, badly turned out ruffian who would point out all the bad things about the property, how small the bedrooms are, how badly the roof leaks, how close they are to the sewage treatment plant, or simply that the neighbours have a yappy Jack Russell. Reverse psychology, he explains in the Monday team meeting. Mark Webber and Paul Drewett concede that fresh thinking is required, but aren’t immediately convinced Nic’s experiment will work. It is bonkers. Mark suggests. Paul agrees. But as Mark has an appointment on the golf course and Paul is getting ready for a week in Puglia with Paloma, they have no better suggestions and agree to give it a go. Recruitment begins. Ron is selected.
Despite his reluctance to take a job, Ron is impressed with Nic King’s pitch. Praise and encouragement are rare in the Wet Blanket world, and Nic is generous with both. He accepts Nic’s offer of a trial. To create a good impression for his first day at WKD he digs out his best donkey jacket, the one with the Downmarket Council Waste Disposal crest on the back. It is not even especially grubby. Nic in turn decides that Ron needs no training. He is ready to take on viewings straight away. He is banned from driving, but this is a minor point. He can borrow a bicycle. There is one out the back of the office that has been there for months. The main thing is, Ron is a natural for his new role.
Tom and Tracy Jolly have been looking for a house on the Poets estate for a few months. The extended three-bedroom property in Coleridge Close appears to be exactly what they are looking for to accommodate their growing family. It is convenient for the shops and the local schools and is at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac.
Tom and Tracy have been waiting fifteen minutes and are becoming frustrated. Tom is not used to being kept waiting, and Tracy is not used to Tom being kept waiting. They are feeling irritable. If it weren’t such a nice house, they would probably be driving off. They see a scruffy individual arriving on an old pushbike. He leans it against the gate. They imagine he is there to clear the drains or something. When he introduces himself as Ron Smoot, the Viewing Agent from Webber, King and Drewett, they are speechless.
They manage to retain their dignity and not overreact. After all, it doesn’t matter too much who shows them round, as they have pretty much agreed between themselves that the Coleridge Close house is exactly what they are looking for. It ticks all the boxes. Tom feels he might be able to work from home and wants to see how the extension measures up, and Tracy has plans for a summer house behind the Japanese maple in the generous garden. They can’t wait to get inside.
Until Ron points it out, they would never have guessed there were starlings nesting in the roof, or the damage they could do. Nor would they have realised the cracks in the walls that had been so neatly painted over were down to subsidence. And do they really want to live opposite a cowboy with a Dodge Challenger who likes to tune the engine on a Sunday morning?
………………………………………………………..
‘Ron seemed in a hurry to lock up.’ Tom says. ‘He couldn’t wait to get rid of us.’
‘What it means is the agents have earmarked the property for another buyer,’ Tracy says. ‘Some dodgy deal no doubt, and they don’t want us to have it, so they sent along this loafer to put us off.’
‘I think you’re right,’ says Tom. ‘That’s my reading too. ‘
‘We’d better offer the full asking price, don’t you think?’
‘Or even go higher.’
Nic King is pleased, but at the same time surprised, to get the call from Tom Jolly, and so soon after Ron had shown them round. He is even more surprised that Tom’s offer is five thousand over the asking price. Houses on the Poets estate have been flatlining lately, due to the press coverage of the planning proposals for an industrial park nearby. …. And the Jollys want an early completion date. While he had a baseless inkling his plan would work, he had to confess it had been hatched during a mad night at the pub, and deep down he doubted its merits as much as the next man would. After all, it was, as Mark Webber had pointed out, bonkers. PHD Level mindless. And yet……….
Over the next week Ron manages to sell a four-bedroomed house in Presley Park, despite letting Mr and Mrs Jones know that every summer travellers set up camp in the adjoining land, and three of the new houses in the Summerfield development that were bound to flood because of the penny pinching approach to topographical surveying beforehand. He even sells the leasehold flat underneath the Reggae DJ’s flat in Max Romeo Court, which they have been unable to sell for fifteen months.
Ron has never earned a bonus before. No one has ever thought that highly of his work. It seems he is really suited to selling houses. Perhaps he has found his vocation. He is even given some extra cash to go around the charity shops to buy some designer scruffy outfits.
‘Mismatched pre-loved items, Ron,’ Nic says. ‘The tattier the better, and don’t be afraid of a little colour. Trashy colour. And while you’re in town, what about a tattoo or two, too and some facial piercing? Then we can get a couple of pics for promotional literature.’
The only photos anyone has taken of Ron lately are mug shots, and he thinks the new ones with his facial tattoos in his ripped orange jeans in his Stone Temple Pilots T-shirt look pretty impressive. He even gets himself along to The Goat and Bicycle for a celebratory drink. He is on cloud 9, well, perhaps in Ron’s case, cloud 2. They say all good things come to an end, but as good things have been in short supply, he is relatively unfamiliar with this perception. Suffice to say, his success in selling houses is short-lived.
They say that surprise keeps you on your toes. It sharpens the senses. And the element of surprise must be seen as the key to Ron’s brief success. Viewers do not expect to be shown around by a tramp pointing out the defects of a house, so they immediately become suspicious of the motives of the agent, which in turn gets them a result. Perhaps not the result one might expect, but perhaps something to learn from. Reverse psychology may have some merit, after all. But when they see Ron’s profile in advance on the Webber, King and Drewett promotion, decked out in his scruffy attire, potential viewers are deprived of the element of surprise. They are forewarned that something is not right, and are likely to jump to a different conclusion from Ron’s appearance. They are now more likely to see the agents as a cowboy outfit they should avoid, and prioritise properties advertised by other agents. The calls stop coming in. Viewings with WKD drop by ninety percent in the first week.
At the Monday team meeting, Mark Webber and Paul Drewett air their views about Nic’s marketing strategy more forcefully. Bonkers. PHD Level mindlessness is now moronic, indefensible, off-his-trolley insanity. How did he ever think a batshit crazy idea like this would work? What planet is he on? Nic is forced to take action. Ron is summarily dismissed with a minute’s notice.
At the Job Centre, an excessively eager clerk tells Ron that because he was dismissed for misconduct, he doesn’t qualify for benefits for a period of thirteen weeks. Ron’s protests are referred to his officious supervisor, who calls Security to escort him from the premises. Ron is fortunate only that the security guard is Lee Struggler, who he spent time in Strangeways with a few years back. Lee was in for ABH, Ron had been wrongly convicted of a firearms offence from which he was eventually acquitted, but not before he had spent six months inside, while his defence team got their act together. He and Lee were on a CBT course together. Lee had been ordered to undergo the therapy and Ron had signed up for the course under the impression that CBT was some kind of kick box training.
Feeling embarrassed about his role, and recognising a fellow lag in trouble, Lee gives Ron his number and says they should meet up for a drink for old time’s sake. Perhaps they might come up with a scheme to improve their present situations.
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