I do love a nice dose of home buying on my television screen. It’s most of what I watch when I go home, unless there’s tennis on, in which case I am ALL about the tennis. I do like tennis.
My dream career would probably be the person who commentates the tennis, but failing that, I think I’d be the other person, the one who goes into homes and says ‘you need to knock down this wall’ and ‘this kitchen needs some desperate refurbishing’ and ‘Samara, I know you think your artwork adds character, but it’s driving everyone away from buying your home because it’s so incredibly horrific’.
I was born to contact conveyancing offices. Clifton Hill, Fitzroy, the CBD – you name it, I could contact the heck out of them and check the progress of the property transfer. I’d then be filmed walking down the street (all glamorous, but looking like that’s just a normal thing for me), ringing the main couple on the show and saying, “Look, I just called the conveyancers and they say the settlement is nearly settled, and this is your chance to pull out if you REALLY want to make an offer on property number #3.”
Then the dramatic music would begin, and the couple would be swayed this way and that by my words, and my conveyancing solicitor expertise, because those are the two things that would give me absolute power. I would revel in that power, but be perfectly sweet and caring, like a mother who knows best for her wayward children but is secretly playing them like a fiddle.
That’d all be quite good fun, I think. I’d have my contacts for all the experts in conveyancing near Elwood, all in a little black book. It would be my ‘signature’ thing, that book. I’d have it in every episode. Inside would be my secrets, like conveyancers’ numbers and lines to fill the silence when the couple takes very long pauses to think about their future. We can’t have too much of THAT.