Been on holiday? Of course you have. You have met the carpet sellers, the genial hosts in the marble factory, the scent salesman. “Just come and look in my shop, no need to buy, just look” Of course you are too sophisticated, too canny and experienced to fall for it. But what the heck, its part of the holiday, let’s just sip the tea, chat, look at the merchandise and keep the plastic firmly in our pockets.
The trouble is they are good, really good at what they do. They have been doing it for years. In the airport bookshop, you could have bought half a dozen self-improvement books on negotiation skills. You have seen the titles; “Getting to yes”; "You can negotiate everything”; the art of selling, the list goes on. But these guys have not read the books, they could write their own. But what happens between your cautious, knowing entry into the shop and the excess baggage charge on your way home? It’s the art of persuasion and it is an ancient art. On the way to the shop he asks you where you are from, are you enjoying your holiday? He is watching, listening and assessing you. He is working out how much you will spend, even if you still think it is nothing. He wants to know how long you have been in his country — code for “How much have you spent already?”
In the shop he gives you tea, he hardly drew your attention to the merchandise but he has watched to see where your eye dwelt.
The offer of tea is part of it. He has given you something. Some small part of you wants now to give him something in return, and you surely will.
Are you sitting comfortably? Now he will show you his first product. It will be nearly but not quite the most expensive. He will not mention the price, that would be impolite. He just asks you to admire the quality. You show appreciation? You are a discerning person, a person of taste and refinement. He will show you something even better; this tat is not for you.
He sees the fear in your eye; you estimate this new thing is too expensive. He drops it. He now works slowly down to the price range that will suit the cheapskate you have revealed yourself to be, but the smile and the patter never falter.
You will not get away, you take an interest in something, you are his now. He will try to move up the price range again without ever letting you take your hand off the object. It is out of its wrapper, it is unfolded, and it is in your hand. It is yours.
Music to his ears, you ask “how much?” Please note that it was you that brought up the sordid subject of money. He is above such thing but if needs must …
You haggle but you end up paying almost exactly the price he predicted you would pay. He can arrange shipping, would you like it wrapped. Of course you would. It is encased in bubble-wrap and tape. You will love it, he tells you, in your elegant English home. He is reinforcing your decision to buy. “Another look at the carpet?” No? a regretful shrug an offer of more tea.
It has happened again. You have been the willing victim of the art of persuasion.
Copyright © 2008 Rob Richardson. All Rights Reserved.