Night of the Old Railroad.

I want to tell a story I heard from my teacher at real estate management courses.
They brought me to the courage of the mind and faith in a bright future. After graduating, I realized that I would never go into real estate.
The courses were under the Institute of World Civilizations, which is known for being founded by Vladimir Volfovich Zhirinovsky. The monument modestly decorated the entrance to the school.
The program of classes was divided into two blocks: commercial real estate and residential. If lessons on commercial real estate still included some of the basics of "management", the residential part prepared clean agents for the search and sale of apartments, sometimes houses.
There were also two teachers. Sorry, but I can’t remember the exact names. The commercial part was led by a crazy Tajik - a smart young man, who was really engaged in managing some warehouses in the Moscow region, and had a share in this business.
The residential part was led by Katya. Or the light. She was “a little over forty.” When you look at her, you could immediately say, "Katia or the Light. A little over forty.” Every time she looked like she arrived on a tram from Vladivostok, with seventeen times on her foot, and in the area of Chelyabinsk, the button just sewn on her favorite coat, bought during the crisis in the year 98 on the Cherkizovsky market. Eternal dissatisfaction and confusion did not prevent her from being a real professional, an Agent with a big letter, and even showing some teaching skills.
Students, which included me, the real estate shark business looked little. It was almost a complete set of losers of all kinds, whose amount of free time greatly exceeded the amount of free cash: retired military, housewives on the tenth year of maternity leave, widowed pensioners, students of some Academies-All-Academies, a teacher of physical education and a guard from the shopping center "Golden Babylon Mytischi-4". So it turned out that in the course of my short study I managed to visit in two groups and I can say that in both the students were approximately the same, so the sample can be considered a presentation.
It was an introduction. Now the very story told by Katie-Sveta at one of the classes, when she explained that there are no bad apartments, and everyone, even the most hopeless can find their buyer.
In the early nineties, she was a young naive girl, never married, and just started her journey in the beautiful world of real estate agents with endless rows to Rosreestr, favorite customers, for whom the best carpenters of Russia and abroad and colleagues at the shop, also, as it turned out, famous cattle, cried.
I ordered her to work. The option was interesting in all parameters: a prosperous area, a house of good planning, the right floor, a competitive price, an adequate seller and very good commissions.
What was the reason for Katya’s interest when she came to see the apartment. There were no furniture in the apartment, curtains on the windows as well. Through the slightly polluted glasses opened a wonderful view of the blue summer sky of Moscow. It is above. And down there was a wonderful network of rails of the Tushin Railway Depot. On the one hand, there was nothing surprising about it. Moscow was then a city with many factories and industries. The office Mecca, with the blessing of the prophet Yuri appeared a little later. The first seeds of bad anticipation appeared in Svetta, when a maneuvering heat car passed through the railway network, frightening local crows by knocking the wheels and a stretch. Then the manoeuvre repeated. For the third time, it seemed that along with the rails and wheels, the floor in the apartment was trembling.
She didn’t have to ask an uncomfortable question to the owner. They were decent people and told themselves that because of sound special effects, which was impossible to not notice, they could not find a buyer for six months. Apparently, therefore, more experienced comrades did not take this order and the "bad apartment" got a young inexperienced trainee at the last stage of the seller's despair, who was already ready to lower the price, but did not want to do so.
The next few days Katya went and thought how and to whom to sell the apartment in Tushino. Where to find a buyer?
Getting out of the subway on the square of three stations and headed toward the "Moscowsky" supermarket, she stumbled upon the poster with a scattered gaze. There was written that in a week in the Railway Workers' House of Culture will be held a festive concert dedicated to the Day of these most railway workers with the participation of famous and not very artists. The inscription on the poster miraculously combined with Katie's thoughts and the puzzle came together.
The week went on preparation, contact with the organizers of the concert and printing of advertising leaflets on the sale of the apartment.
In the pamphlets, as a special bonus, it was indicated that the apartment is located next to the railway depot, will keep the usual atmosphere of the favorite work and will delight the owner with the usual knock of wagon wheels and locomotives on weekends and holidays.
Arriving on the day of the concert at the railway club, Katya, with the permission of the organizers, distributed leaflets to all visitors, accompanying them with a sweet smile and bright glow of the girl's eyes.
And what do you think? A buyer has been found!
A serious man from the railway dynasty was looking for an apartment for his retired father. The railroad father could not accept retirement and the need to spend his time in passive rest away from his favorite work. The railroad son did not know how to help his beloved and respected father, and here is such an offer!
The apartment was sold very quickly. Everyone remained satisfied. Light received an additional bonus from the buyer and eternal gratitude of the railroad grandfather, who could now even at night listen to heart-pleasant sounds and naturally feel with his old bones the vibration of the rails that take the trains into the eternal nirvana of his railroad dreams.
Since then, more than twenty years have passed. A young realtor girl, having gone through all the paths of professional deformity, having been married three times, taught the neophytes how to find and sell apartments. Vladimir Volfovich from an inadequate politician of the Yeltsin era turned into a bronze monument, standing at the entrance to the educational institution with a loud name and a quiet watch at the entrance. Well, I wrote this story looking at the red diploma, which I don’t need at all.