That's my new catchphrase. . . formed last week when I went 'help shopping' with a gal pal and her adult daughter to get a few items of decor for her home.
Do you have any idea what 'help shopping' is like? It's when you are dragged along by a dear friend to every home decoration store on the planet and made to look down each and every isle and try to find THAT SIMPLY PERFECT THING that will go marvelously in that little nook off the family room next to the doodle cart by the fireplace mantle and just ahead of the stairwell. . .
After we found not one, but TWO perfect things! (One to go in the other place, just off the newel post near the harpsichord draperies by the porte-cochere) That's when my dear friend noticed that I had not purchased anything and was giving me that 'come on, be a sport and spend a ridiculous amount of money on something really stupid that you simply do not even want' look. So I grabbed a velveteen garden gnome from the bargain bin and we headed to the check out isle.
Now I must interject before I continue with this scintillating tale that one of the things my gal pal just HAD to have was not only scratched up--it had a piece that was completely broken off--but she wasn't worried a bit, as she had her dear daughter and I to negotiate a reduced price for this one of a kind item. Our mission was to get a 'damaged price reduction' if you will.
So her daughter and I were waiting with anticipation to see how well we could negotiate the price down for this
As the young salesman tried to ring up the ' perfect thing' her daughter piped right up:
Gal pal's daughter: Hey, wait just a minute. Do you see how scratched up this is? And this piece is completely broken off. Don't we get a discount or something?
Young salesman: Ummm. . . I can give you a 10% discount.
Gal pal's daughter: Are you kidding? Did you see the sharp metal sticking out of the back? Why I could cut myself just carrying it out of the store. . . come on--is that the best you can do?
Young salesman: Uhhh. . . yeah it is. But I can throw in a box of band aids with your 10% discount.
Gal pal's daughter: Really? Is there someone here who can do better?
Young salesman: Miss, a 10% discount is all we are allowed by law to give on slightly damaged items.
Gal pal's daughter: But what about really damaged items, like this piece of junk I'm trying to buy? I mean, just LOOK at it!
Young salesman: Well. . . I'm really sorry, but I can't go any lower.
Gal pal's daughter (beginning to raise her voice): Is there a manager or supervisor I can talk to?
Young salesman (looking very uncertain now): Uhhh. . . yeah. Do you want me to get her?
Gal pal's daughter: Yes, please do.
I was really starting to be impressed with gal pal's daughter. . . when the supervisor came into view.
Supervisor: What's the problem?
Gal pal's daughter: What's the problem? Just look at this ridiculous wreck of home art. A piece is broken off, the entire thing is scratched, and half the back is missing. You are not going to be able to sell it, now that my blood has gotten on it for carting it up here. . .
Me (deciding to interject a bit of ' kiss-up' here, just in case) We'd love to be able to take this off your hands. We've got a soldering gun in the back of the car that we can slap this metal piece right back on with--and we'll use #5 sand paper to smooth out the scratches--and we'll go to the fabric store right across the street to replace the backing. What's your best price you are willing to let this go for?
Supervisor: Well, let me take it to another register and look it over and see what I can do.
Gal pal's daughter makes sure to hoist it over to her so she has to grab the sharpest corner with the exposed glass shards and we are giving each other knowing looks as the supervisor struggles to get it to the next cash register.
While we are waiting for the verdict to come in, some hussy behind us who looks just like Peg from 'Married With Children' starts placing her 50+ items on the counter which need to be individually wrapped SEVERAL times in paper to prevent breakage.
After waiting nearly a half hour for the big-haired tart in skin tight vinyl capri pants and stiletto heels to get her items rung up and packaged--AND for the supervisor to make her final calculations and get back to us with the item--I was thinking we should just forget the whole thing. But finally the supervisor appears all smiles.
Supervisor: I think I can give you 30%. How does that sound?
Gal pal's daughter (rather skeptical): Really? 30%? What do we have to pay?
Supervisor: No, I am GIVING you 30% of what the price was for this item and you just take it out of the store and never come back, OK?
Gal pal (who is all smiles and has managed to put on work gloves and protective goggles): Deal!
She gingerly takes it out of the store. . . and her daughter and I congratulate ourselves on our wonderful negotiating skills.
As we watch the Peg look-alike try to untangle her 6 inch fingernails from all her shopping bags and heft them into her car, we all work feverishly to get that art contraption into our car trunk.
Then we high five each other, do a little dance and sing the 'Oh Yeah--We're Some Sick Shoppers' song.
That's when I looked up at the sky and took a deep breath and turned to my gal pal and her daughter.
Me: I can just smell it. . .
Gal pal: Smell what? I didn't do anything.
Me: I can smell a blog post coming. . .
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2 comments:
Way to go gal pal daughter!!!
Impressive! I would have given up.
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