The Accidental Collector: 30 Years in Real Estate, One Bed Away from Fame
By Wyatt Poindexter
After nearly 30 years in real estate, I’ve navigated every imaginable scenario: market booms, market busts, deals that came together like magic, and others that unraveled faster than a clearance sweater. But through all the showings, closings, and contract chaos, I’ve managed to collect something far more unexpected than awards or plaques on the wall.
Stuff. So much stuff.
Not the kind of stuff you'd want on a closing checklist—I'm talking jukeboxes, pool tables, autographed shoes, leather chairs, and a bed that literally belonged to Rocky Balboa.
What began as a career in helping people buy and sell homes somehow evolved into me becoming a part-time museum curator, part-time storage unit manager, and full-time recipient of things sellers didn’t want to move... or explain. If I’d just rented a climate-controlled storage unit back in the ‘90s, I could be running Oklahoma’s largest luxury consignment empire by now. Possibly franchising. Definitely weird flexing.
The Jukebox That Started It All
One of the first “gifts” I ever received was a Rock-Ola CD Bubbler Jukebox. Lit up like Vegas and played like a dream. A seller gave it to me casually, like they were offloading an old toaster.
“Hey, you want this thing?”
Uh… yes. Yes, I do.
It sat in my living room for years before I sold it for $8,000, and that was the moment I realized—real estate comes with perks. Odd, oversized, sometimes heavy and mildly dangerous perks, but perks nonetheless.
The $200,000 Mistake That Still Haunts Me
Then came the one that got away. A seller once offered me a 1970 Plymouth Cuda, mint condition, low miles, in place of commission. And I, in a moment of total professional responsibility, said no.
That same car later sold for over $200,000 and was featured in national magazines. Not only did I miss out on one of the greatest muscle cars of all time, but I also missed the chance to say “I got paid in horsepower.”
To this day, I can still hear that car starting up—in my nightmares.
From Fine Art to Game-Used Sneakers
Over the years, clients have gifted me more than a few surprises. I’ve been handed:
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Full patio sets
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Rare books
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Framed art
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Bar stools
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Entire garage shelving systems
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Furniture that required four grown men and a prayer
Once, I tried to buy a seller’s signed concert program, autographed by every original member of The Eagles. He wouldn’t part with it. And now, every time I hear “Take It to the Limit,” I take a deep sigh and remember what could’ve been.
The Thunder Takeover
Then came the Oklahoma City Thunder era. One summer, I let the team use a listing—a sprawling 40-acre estate—for Russell Westbrook’s Summer Hype Party.
They staged the home like it was being featured on a luxury home show, landscaped the grounds like a Hollywood set, and threw a party that made Coachella look underwhelming.
In return, I got:
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Russell Westbrook’s game-used shoes
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Paul George’s game-used shoes
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A signed Thunder basketball
But the gifts didn’t stop there. When Paul George moved to Los Angeles, he called me to list his home in Arcadia. Full-circle moment. As a parting gift, Paul handed over:
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His leather office chair, which now anchors my home office like a throne
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A box full of Thunder jerseys
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Original artwork that didn’t make it into the moving truck
If I ever leave real estate, I might open The Real Estate Museum of Oklahoma—fully furnished by former clients, endorsed by the NBA.
The Bed. The Legend. The Balboa.
And now... the pièce de résistance.
Sylvester Stallone.
Yes—the Sylvester Stallone. While filming Tulsa King in OKC, I helped him lease a downtown penthouse. That phone call alone deserves its own story, but let’s stay focused here.
Before leaving Oklahoma, he gifted me:
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A pair of Rocky’s iconic American Flag boxing shorts
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Rambo and Rocky shirts for my kids
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A signed photo
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Three Opus X cigars, which I haven’t smoked because they’ve now crossed over into “sacred heirloom” status
But the crown jewel?
The bed.
He didn’t like the one in the penthouse, so he had a $17,000 plush bed delivered. This bed does everything—raises, lowers, vibrates, and probably has Wi-Fi. When filming wrapped, I offered to store it for his return in Season 2.
As we now know… Season 2 happened, just not in Oklahoma.
His team called and said, “You know what? Just keep the bed.”
So I did. And now, I sleep in Rocky Balboa’s bed.
The Many Names of Greatness
I keep renaming the bed depending on the day and my mood. It started off as Rocky Bedboa, but the nicknames kept rolling in like a title montage:
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Rambo’s Rest Station
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The Southpaw Snoozer
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Over the Top Sleeper
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The Cobra Comfort King
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The Creed Cradle
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Clubber Sleep
At this point, the bed deserves its own merchandise line.
Conclusion: From Keys to Keepsakes
Real estate is more than contracts and commission checks. It’s personal, unpredictable, and sometimes wildly entertaining. Over the years, I’ve collected more than just properties—I’ve collected stories, friendships, and a rotating inventory of celebrity furniture.
If you’re just getting started in this industry, here’s my advice:
Bring integrity.
Bring hustle.
And definitely bring a U-Haul—because you never know what a seller might "accidentally" leave behind.
And if someone offers you a classic car instead of a commission check?
Take. The. Car.
As for the bed?
Let’s just say…
I sleep like a champ.
Wyatt Poindexter - The Agency Oklahoma
