He Was MY Client First

Before I was a dim witted property investor/landlord, I was a yoga, dance and Pilates instructor. And certainly, a late bloomer. Even though I have two completed degrees and another that is perpetually pending graduation, I never had a “career.” That is partly my doing of course and partly, “Divine Intervention,” or sometimes I feel, lack thereof.

I have tried many things over the years and paid my dues, patiently, putting in the effort and hours, waiting for a ship, any ship to sail in. Exhausted by the constant struggle and looming student loans - I was searching for a solution, a way to get out of the “Rat Race.” That’s when I met Daniel Howards.

Body Builders is a private, personal training facility on the edge of Victoria Park, a gem of a neighborhood in east Fort Lauderdale. I had a separate space from the rest of the gym where I would work with clients on the Pilates equipment. Daniel Howards trained privately two to three times a week at Body Builders. Hyper active and easily bored, Daniel has a very busy mind and must know something about everything, so of course, he had to see what this Pilates was all about. He drove sexy luxury cars, talked about extravagant shopping sprees and the houses he lived in. Daniel loved impressing people with his intelligence and money. Gay as the day is long, Daniel is still hot, hot, hot; tall and hunky with pillowy lips and boyish brown eyes. As much as he is intense, he is fuun-ny .... nothing was off-limits for our discussions. My biggest challenge with Daniel was that Pilates takes focus and concentration, he didn’t want to have to think and even said, more than once, “I love personal training, they tell me what to do and I do it. I don’t hafta know what the exercise is for or what weight I’m working with. They even count for me.” As soon as I was foolish enough to think we might have quieted that cacophony of mental activity, he would jump off my machine and say, “I don’t want to do this one any more. Let’s do some of this,” as he made his way, pointing to another piece of Pilates equipment that he knew nothing about. It was like getting a two year old to sit still for an algebra lesson.

He talked about his friend, Kia and how she needs this “Pilates stuff.” “I’m gonna send her over and let her use one of my sessions. She’s a portly woman with a red face,” he explained. “Uhm, is that okay?” I wondered to myself about his choice of words to describe a friend. We made the appointment and Kia came in for her gifted session from Daniel. “Hi,” she shook my hand, “I’m Kia. Daniel’s portly friend.” Oh, I guess they’re cool like that, (cuz she certainly was so). She liked her hour with me and wanted to purchase her own package of sessions. The next week Daniel told me about their conversation, “Can you sell one of my properties?” she asked him. According to Daniel, she was ready to start training with me on a regular basis and also wanted to purchase gym equipment for her home, so she asked him to sell one of her several properties. (*Note and clarification: Not that the cost of my Pilates training packages compared to the price of real estate.) He also went on to explain that they were friends and business partners. Kia’s portfolio made Daniel so much money in commissions that he just gave her one of his cars when he decided to get another upgrade for himself.

Daniel loved to talk, so I opened the door for him to brag about what he did, what it was like being an investor and how he made a whole bunch of money for people like Kia. Finally, one day, I mustered up the nerve....
“Can you do that for me?” I asked.
“Of course I can,” was his answer. “You got any money?”
“Nope.”
“S’okay. Give this woman a call,” he scribbled a name and number on the back of a business card. “She’s one of the mortgage brokers that works with me. Really sweet. Answer all her questions and let’s see what we can do. Piece of cake,” he said confidently.

Almost two weeks passed before I made the call. Too easily, I was intimidated by matters of the “grown up world,” and felt like a stuttering child because I was so green. Successfully, whether intentionally or not, I have avoided any real responsibility and now, just by making this call, I was announcing to the Universe, “I AM READY.” I am ready to play “grown up,” I am ready to be successful, I am ready for a mortgage. “Piece of cake,” I calmed myself as I listened to the phone ring on the other end.

“Sweetie,” Amanda was warm and personable on the phone; I felt like I was talking to an older sister, “I’m a good Christian, Cuban girl. If I put you in a mortgage, I won’t be able to sleep at night.” Well, I guess that about sums it up. “Call me in a couple years when you have a little more stability.” “Okay,” I answered obediently. It didn’t take her long to gather my information and come to that conclusion. My credit score was in the low 700’s, but it wasn’t enough to convince the wisely prudent Amanda that she should present me to a lender as a reliable home owner.

“That’s alright,” Daniel reassured me in our next session, “something will come up. I know these things.” There was a funny smirk on his face. “No Daniel, it’s not gonna happen. Not now,” I was disappointed and relieved. There were moments though, in those two weeks of procrastination when I counted on this real-state thing to change my life. It seemed like everyone else was making money in the boom. It seemed so easy. Daniel explained that in this market, the days of “flipping houses,” was over. “What investors are doing now,” he detailed, “is fixing up the properties just enough to get renters, waiting for equity and cashing in.” It sounded like the Golden Ticket to me. I envisioned my student loans and credit card debts paid off, a dependable car and maybe even a surf adventure somewhere. I put all my eggies in that basket, because I had nothing else to hope for - or so it seemed. “How am I going to rise above this hand to mouth lifestyle?” was a frequent, gloomy, desperate thought. “Something else will come up,” Daniel re-iterated and paused, “I know these things.” All I knew was that I had another 45 minutes to get him to focus and find his core. “Breathe in, lengthen the spine .... breathe out, engage your abdominals and press......”