Wince, then ask: "can you give me some latitude?"
This is the question you ask immediately after hearing the price of anything. It is a sheer negotiation tactic taught to me at a business class I once attended with several other fellow Kinko's Copy photocopy salespeople in Vancouver, somewhere in the 1990s.
How does one respond to such a question? What you are really asking is "can you open your mind and meet me at some level? Are you able to engage, adapt, act quickly, respond, commune, agree and somehow do business with me? Can we find our sweet spot?"
Many folks are open; some are very closed.
And anyway, what did I have to lose?
I was a 30-something single girl struggling to survive on loonie pizza slices because of my exorbitant rent above the Taverna Corfu on Broadway that ate up the majority of my paycheque. The image of my cat, Sydney, straining his neck towards the daily scent of souvlaki rising in the late afternoons is forever etched in my memory.
I was known as the girl upstairs to the Greek owners, who kindly took pity on me with vegetarian moussaka whenever I was sick. It was a safe spot in the big city that I was very grateful for, that had somewhat of a community feel, even if they never knew my name.
I tested the latitude question anywhere and everywhere from the Oak Centre Mall to the McDonalds on Cambie to street vendors. Sometimes I used a high voice, other times a serious tone. Regardless, most often it worked when the words were swathed in humour and the audience somehow already knew the secret code of negotiation. It became a daily practice as I grew bolder, almost like sport. And there is nothing sweeter than a good bargain when you're broke.
But I was getting tired. It was clear my ambition and persistence were not enough to gain much ground in the unforgiving cityscape in any meaningful way. And it was getting more and more difficult to think with the increasing volume of that biological clock ticking in my ear.
One day, out of utter desperation, exhaustion and despair, I looked up and prayed for some latitude to alleviate my poverty and lack of direction in life.
The idea of returning to Alberta was completely out of the question, so I started to ask: Is there anywhere in BC that is more affordable? Is there a place where a girl could get to know folks and build a life, and maybe even open a business or own property? Does such a place even exist? Please give me some latitude!
Like a miracle, the answer came in short order with a four-month job offer at 53.91242 N, otherwise known as the great city of Prince George. That was over 20 years ago.
So, my thought is to share with you my gold nugget negotiation question: Can you give me some latitude?
The answer could change your life.
