Meet Marc Gross

We had the good fortune of connecting with Marc Gross and we’ve shared our conversation below.

Hi Marc, what role has risk played in your life or career?
Risk has been my path throughout my life. In my younger days, the risks I took would be the kinds you warn people about, the kind you maybe don’t want to dwell on or put out there for the world to see. But those risks are part of my story and play a role in how I got to where I am. I’ll just say this about those years; In my late teens and 20’s I didn’t think I’d make it to 30 and I took every avenue I could find to ensure it. Survival instinct got the better of me and I wake up grateful for that every single day.

As I started to think about getting older the risks I took would be to broaden my world view by traveling, often times picking up and moving on a whim, somewhere I’d never been or didn’t know anyone. They paid off every time, but none greater than that last one to Los Angeles from a tiny dot of an island in the Caribbean.

When I decided to get into real estate, that was a risk, too. My “career” to that point was one that I knew I couldn’t sustain forever, but I had nothing else to fall back on. No college degree, not nearly enough talent to be a working musician and not enough confidence to try to publish my writing. One day I was working behind the bar and the next I just stopped showing up and decided I’d get my real estate license.

It doesn’t seem like such a big risk now, but during those first few years, I was sure I’d made an enormous miscalculation. Just before things started to progress, I was dropping resumes at every bar in LA. And I didn’t get a single interview.

Can you open up a bit about your work and career? We’re big fans and we’d love for our community to learn more about your work.
I started in real estate sales after a lifetime of service industry gigs. Mostly bartending, but I’ve done every job there is in the bar/nightclub/restaurant business. Dishwasher, fry cook, line cook, bouncer, door guy, barback, bartender, bar manager, general manager – A to Z. I didn’t realize how cliche it was until my friends started noticing all the sales I was posting. Someone in St. Thomas tagged me online with all those jobs listed above and then finally, Real Estate Agent. That was literally my path.

But I failed. Miserably. Took me 2 years to close my first deal. Any sane human being would have walked away. But I’m stubborn and by then I’d already decided I was never going back to the bar. And then, about 2 years later, after a few sales and some scattered success, I was almost too broke to get my license renewed. But after that first commission check that was more money than you made in certain years, I couldn’t just walk away. So I kept at it. I changed my routine; up at 4:30, in the gym before 5 and at my desk by 7am. Every day.

A few months later I joined a locally owned independent firm and things started to change right away. It made sense. When I worked in the bar business, I couldn’t do the corporate thing. Corporate rules, like corporate rock, sucks. Within a few months I ditched the ill-fitting suits and just started to be me. Laid back in my style but armed with Stephanie’s 20 years of LA real estate knowledge.

Before he passed, my Dad would tell me that I was the one who got it right. Lived life to the fullest, traveled, partied, had no obligations, while I was young enough to enjoy it. He was right. My experiences in life before real estate inform my business every single day. By immersing myself in different cultures, by purposefully getting uncomfortable so I could learn something new, I can see the different perspectives instantly, read the angles before they appear. I also have a genuine to desire to help others realize their dreams.

If you had a friend visiting you, what are some of the local spots you’d want to take them around to?
First stop is Homestate for some migas, preferably the one in Highland Park before seeing a concert at the Lodge Room. There’s only one other place, outside of Texas, that I’ve seen migas and that’s in Palm Springs.

Next morning, work off the migas with a hike up in Runyon Canyon and take a break at the Bat Cave. Since Animal is no more, probably Jon & Vinny’s for some legit pie. Or if I’m on the ball, order some Dough Drop Pizza by Wednesday to pick up on the weekend. IYKYK.

For drinks, honestly, I don’t do it much anymore, but I still haven’t been to Seven Grand and I allow myself the occasional whisky.

If they’re here to visit me, then music takes precedence over all. So I would most definitely take a day to spend at Permanent Records Roadhouse over near Mt. Washington. There are some great record stores here, but this is my favorite and it’s not even close. Where else can you see Fred Armisen play punk rock’s greatest hits as if he were singing in the shower to himself?

I’m a big fan of the little places. The new Lucky Tiki in West Hollywood. Dynasty Typewriter, Teragram.

The Shoutout series is all about recognizing that our success and where we are in life is at least somewhat thanks to the efforts, support, mentorship, love and encouragement of others. So is there someone that you want to dedicate your shoutout to?
There are so many people who played significant roles in my life, who taught me, by their actions and friendship, how to be a better me. I think I’ll save those for the book and I’ll keep it to real estate since that’s how I ended up being asked to do this.

Without Stephanie G, who showed me everything real estate and Los Angeles, I’d still be hustling drinks on a beach or a boat. The greatest gifts she gave to me was getting me to change my inner dialogue. It took me a long, long time, but as it started to take hold, I started to believe that maybe I could finally harness the potential my parents were always on about and make something of myself.

Also, RT, one of the early mentors I had. He got me to believe that if I just kept going, I would succeed. Most of my life, if I failed at something, I’d walk away. Or if I wasn’t 100% sure I would succeed, I wouldn’t try. That’s how afraid of failure I was. He was the one who told me failure was not about winning or losing, but about getting back in the game and staying there. My mantra became “Fall seven times. Get up eight.” The irony that someone who couldn’t see beyond 30 was now looking toward the future, working toward something more, seems cliche.

Image Credits
Photos by Marc Gross (me)