I have spent my entire life negotiating. If I had to come up with the common denominator in all I have done in my years, it has been attempting to convince others not to abandon me, kill me, fire me, to love me, to bend to my will and generally agree to my way of thinking. I enjoy the lessons I have learned, watching others negotiate to get their needs met.
One of the best examples in negotiation was taught to me by the owner of a small drug store. We added his store to a mid-sized mall and prepared for his opening. His lease was favorable to the landlord and he was not particularly sophisticated due to the honest, direct manner in which he did business.
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The next morning, the tree was found sawed off at the base and lying on it’s side. No one saw or heard anything…in the night, in a locked mall,
someone sawed it to the ground and no one saw a thing. The tree was replaced and a couple of days later, it was sawed to the ground. No one saw a thing.
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We stared at each other for a few more moments, I thanked him, got up and left. I notified our landscaping department to plant small, three foot high plants, forget what the plan called for and scrap the tree. We never found the culprit or figured out how he did it. I was impressed.
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Now, whether or not we have cookies is academic. Just to be sure I understand, she takes my finger, leads me to the pantry and looks at me expectantly.
I have about 15 seconds to produce that cookie, or she escalates the negotiations. She removes the subtle overtures, drops her eyebrows to a scowl and offers up a much firmer, “COO - COO.” Now by God, things are getting serious. She had offered from the beginning to make this painless, her entreaties are not being met in a timely manner and she believes it is because I do not think she is serious.
We have now moved up to DEFCOM 3. She spreads her feet the width of her shoulders, puts her hands on her hips, arches her back, holds her head back and is ready to unleash the furies. I am attempting to get the lid off a tin of frosting, which I plan to smear over a saltine cracker, in an effort to fool her. My back-up plan is to tuck her under my arm, race to the neighbor’s house with a $20 dollar bill and buy a cookie.
I am moving too slow to suit her and she rips loose a loud deep-throated growl, which is reminiscent of Regan from “The Exorcist”…
”coo-coo!”
Windows shake, dogs howl and there is movement on the Richter Scale.
Glory to God, I find a cupcake! I apply the entire contents of the tin of frosting on the top and shove it into her little mouth. This works! The crisis is abated. I have learned my lesson.
Now there are always cookies to be found in our home…we are hip-deep in cookies. Nancy tells me we do not need any more cookies. I freeze them, hide them and stuff them into corners, but I am prepared for our next bout. To be a good negotiator, take the stickler points off the table…be prepared.
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