I'm looking at real estate for the first time in 14 years. You think you remember how irritating realtors are, but you don't really. Sure, I created a burner email address just for them. I've deleted two such addresses already, in fact. Sure, I bought a burner phone just so they don't have my real number. And these safeguards do offer me some measure of sanity. But only some.
Given the option of emailing or calling, I always choose email. "Are there any pictures of the garage?" I'll write the listing agent.
"Hi John! What's your number?" comes the response.
"I don't have a phone. Can you just email it?"
"Hi John! What's your mailing address?"
"Tell your mother that you're a failure. And tell your client that you blew a sale."
Variations of this conversation have happened a half-dozen times. And any contact results in a shitstorm of spam about how invaluable it is to have that particular parasite take $15,000 of your money for putting little red "sign here" stickers on paperwork for the house you found without their help.
I fairly hate them.
In related news, I forgot how incredibly hard it is to text from a flip-phone. It's like threading a needle with wet thread. Using your butt cheeks.