A client had hired me with the proviso that he close on his new home by December 31. Things proceeded apace, closing was scheduled, and I arrived at the sellers’ attorney’s office at 10:00 am sharp to close the transaction.
I arrived on time though I drove during a snowstorm to do so. I was on the dot despite having to trudge through an unplowed parking lot. I was punctual as I squished inside with snow covering my coat and my boots, and was directed by the receptionist to head up the staircase, where my client was waiting.
I put one foot onto the stairs, where water was puddling (no doubt from my client). I put another foot onto the stairs, and noticing that the wood had quite a lacquered sheen, I tried to tread carefully. I cautiously got about halfway up the shiny, wet steps before I tumbled, hitting
My face hurt like hell and I could taste blood. The receptionist cried out, and my client hoofed it down the stairs just as she asked, “Shall I call an ambulance?”
“No!” said my client. “We have to close; there’s no tomorrow for me.”
Silently fuming but mindful of my obligation, I went to the restroom, washed my face, and checked that nothing was out of kilter or terribly swollen. I closed that deal, and stood up to leave, declining the offers to take me to the emergency room made by the title closer and the seller’s attorney (who guiltily admitted he should have put runners on the slippery stairs and shoveled the walk).
Know what my client said before high-tailing it out of the office? “Have a good year! Thanks! You take care of yourself, Miss Clumsy Pants!”