Latest Posts

Wednesday 2 November 2011

THE ART OF THE BARGAIN



There is a real art to the bargaining process. Entire countries can hang their hat proudly on the craft. Me, I’m horrendous at it (and yet I loooove a bargain. Go figure). I suppose that plays in part to being a screenwriter – after writing for free for so many morons over the years, you forget what a paycheck looks like, not to mention how to negotiate for one. I’m also a reformed Catholic (very reformed), and hence, I have residual and innate guilt (for just about everything) that I can’t seem to shift. Hence, if we’re talking about bargaining when it comes to the little things in life, I feel like an jackass fighting over a few dollars.

For some people bargaining is a sport; they welcome it, they relish it, and they froth at the bit for that dance that takes place between individuals in the midst of a negotiation. My partner is one of these people (in fact, I have a suspicion that men as a whole love to bargain). He loves the dance, and he’s good at it. He treads in gently, uses that English politeness just at the right moment to deflect any discomfort and then adds in a dash of charm just when he’s probably pissing off the person on the other end of the equation. Meanwhile, I’m practically under the coffee table squealing, ‘oh come on, it's fine, just take the offer!'

Most of the time I try not to be anywhere near the negotiating process; in fact, if we are in a store and I see that look in his eye that he's about to try and knock them down, I have been known to run out of the store like some headless lunatic. [Once I even got caught in a charity shop with my friend as she proceeded to haggle over an item of clothing. The proceeds of the sale went to charity. You have never seen me move that fast]. Of course, when it comes to my partner, he has gone through every angle of it with me in hopes of getting me to see the need for the bargaining process; his favorite explanation: ‘but babe, do you realize the markup they put on things? It's just not right.’ (Um, yes I do, but that’s why I eBay and buy things on sale. I can avoid the whole process altogether  – a wise answer I think).

It’s not that I’m opposed to bargaining or negotiating (a far prettier word); I just don’t want to be the one who has to do it. I can put in my opinion from the sidelines, give moral support, and encourage people to stand firm…just don’t put me in the game because I’ll end up undoing all your good work and will pay more than the asking price. It’s not that I’m not a team player; I’m just a much better cheerleader.

Sometimes I surprise myself [usually if I'm in one of those moods where I'm tired and I just don't care if I offend people (it happens)]. I feel my stomach churning and I get that feeling of, ‘oh god am I really going to do this,’ and then I hear the hesitant question out of my mouth for a lower price…they of course come back with an offer that I accept readily and I feel like I’ve tasted proper victory. This makes my partner laugh as I have usually only knocked them down a fraction of what I could have. 

Now don’t get me wrong, there are some instances where I am actually brilliant at negotiating; I’ve got the gift of the gab and I am no pushover if something really matters to me. Usually it pertains to things on the domestic front (taking out the trash or changing a diaper - totally non-negotiable!), or when dealing with truly unctuous creeps (like landlords or...mortgage brokers) that make a living taking advantage of the common individual. But on the smaller matters, I happily leave that to those that have the time and inclination to spend twenty minutes fighting over two dollars. Happy bargaining, sportsmen.

Monday 31 October 2011

THE TANTRUM


I knew the day would arrive, that day all parents fear…[no not the day the King brings home a girl, or the day he learns to drive, or the day he breaks his first bone falling off the jungle gym. Holy COW there are a lot of days to fear]. You stumble across descriptions of the phase (ha, there’s a euphemism for you) in books; other parents give you that glimpse into what’s to come in their conversations about their own children; not to mention you see parents dealing with it out in public and you think dear god, may our kid not be like that. Yes, I’m talking about the tantrum, and the King is just beginning to discover them in all their cacophonous glory.

To be honest it was a quick transition from sweet cuddly agreeable child that does whatever mommy and daddy say to suddenly a child with profound will and want that if he does not get his way, needs to show you how annoying you truly are. Add in a handful of obstinacy (make that two handfuls) and a whole bowl of frustration and you’ve got yourself a recipe for a proper funfest. His fun, not mine.

Often the tantrums start small. They don’t want their diaper changed, or their idea of dinner and yours don’t exactly match. Perhaps it’s a piece of food flung in your face, or an inadvertent kick in the gut (totally on purpose, who are we kidding) as you change their diaper. Then of course they morph into larger, more challenging affairs. The tantrum begins to last longer, and other elements join the party: screaming, whining, or throwing themselves dramatically on the ground like Scarlett O’Hara playing against Spain in the World Cup Final (how good would she be at faking an injury?). It’s a sight to watch.

Then of course there is the power move, the coup de grace on the tantrum rung: the body goes limp, the back arches, the head is thrown back, and they writhe on the floor like a slippery fish. You wouldn’t believe how heavy a small child can become when they let their entire body go limp, especially the King. God love all 30 pounds of him. Of course their favorite time to do this is in the least desirable place – and the most germ ridden. “Oh god please don’t go limp on the floor of the subway train! Please, please, anywhere but here!”

What’s even more alarming and amazing is how something that starts this young continues throughout our lives (yet another pattern to observe whilst childrearing – I’m telling you, it’s the best front row seat into human behavior you can imagine). Cause as we all know, the tantrum is not relegated to the toddler years. Just hang out in the post office awhile, or see a grown man watch his sports team lose, or even flick on the television…there are tantrums happening all over the world in many different forms…in fact, many take place in our very own living room J. We just learn to perfect the art and make it seem more socially acceptable…or NOT, in the cases when people go into shopping malls with loaded guns. It’s just pissed off humans not getting their way thinking they are entitled to do what they want, when they want.

In the case of the King, for now, we shall try to teach him reason, communication and appropriate channels for his frustration. Either that, or we’ll give him a large pillow and let him beat the wall with it until he feels better, whilst we make very strong cocktails. Whatever works really and keeps him off the floor of the subway.
Copyright © 2014 Anthea Anka - Delighted And Disturbed