The Acting Realtor Podcast
About This Show
The Dangerous & Delicate Balancing Act Between Your Dream Job and Your Day Job
Formerly titled Real Person | Real Needs
This podcast chronicles the journey of a 30-something who is trying to discover his purpose in life and make his dreams a reality.
Geoff Desiato is a husband and father of two, with the responsibility to provide for his family. He's a proud high-school graduate who has worked full-time since he was 17 years old. But after 13 years of working for “The Man,” and being told that he needed to go back to school if he wanted to be successful, Geoff experienced a pre-mid-life crisis.
Like many people, Geoff had passions and dreams but not the ability or confidence to pursue them. For instance, he is an aspiring actor and semi-professional singer. With the support of his wife, Geoff decided it was time to find a suitable career that would allow him to pursue his dreams while still providing for his family and doing something he loved.
So Geoff set out on his entrepreneurial journey by diving into the Real Estate industry. Upon getting his first taste of self-employment, Geoff became fascinated with entrepreneurship, and has since dedicated his time and energy to helping people who feel trapped in their day jobs discover how they are uniquely positioned to change the world!
This podcast is for people who struggle with balancing their day job while pursuing their dream job.
Formerly titled Real Person | Real Needs
For fans of Jon Acuff, Seth Godin, Gary Vaynerchuk, as well as the podcasts Millennial and This American Life.
Most Recent Episode
AR004: “The Trials & Tribulations of an Acting Realtor”
One of the most difficult things about being in a show is seeing it come to an end. Experiencing three months of hard work paying off is exhilarating to say the least, but once the show ends it creates a vacuum of creative energy. This week has been that for me.
I try to turn the page as best I can, for instance, I had grown my hair out for my portrayal of Che Guevara, so on Monday I decided to get my hair cut. I went from looking like Che Guevara to looking like a hipster who would be wearing his tshirt in a matter of minutes.
I must have known that this would not be an ordinary haircut since I decided to record the experience. Now you’d think someone as vain and wannabe hipster as myself would be frequenting the high-end barbershop fully outfitted with home-brewed beer and organic beard oils. But my level of vanity is only trumped by my level of frugality. So I march with $9 haircut coupon in hand to a nearby Supercuts housed in your typical strip mall. This particular Supercuts, like many, is situated next to a tanning salon. I smile to myself as I make my way inside, passing a leathery female trying to make people believe she just recently returned from a mid-November trip to the Cayman Islands, when in reality it looked like she’d been visiting the surface of the sun and had only packed Country Crock as sunscreen. Or I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter. Either way, I can’t believe that people spend money to increase their chance for getting skin cancer. These are the kinds of thoughts that can flash through my head in a matter of seconds.
Anyhow, everything seemed typical for the first 20 minutes until the stylist said that she wasn’t sure how to cut a particular area of my hair. Halfway through the haircut she had to get a coworker to come and help her. Now, I’ve had several hair trimmers meet their maker during a haircut thanks to my thick and masculine locks. I’ve even had women fawn over how nice my hair was. Granted I was 10 years old at the time. But I often thought my life would end by pushing down the pillars of Dagon’s temple in Samsonesque fashion.
But this had never happened to me before. Why does she need help? Was she just there to run the register and they were shorthanded so they made her start attempting haircuts? For a moment, I thought my frugality and vanity were playing a game of chicken at my expense. A feeling of dread swept over me as I realized that I could not see the back of my h