On Asking Nicely

I tried to put my negotiation skills to good use today. And I wouldn’t call it a failure, but it wasn’t a hard-won victory either. Now that I manage the finances of this tiny non-profit, I’ve come to realize what shoestring operations can really mean — a low five figures in the checking account that still needs to cover a huge upcoming invoice. With a contract to sign by deadline and not enough funds to foot the bill, I did what every reasonable, motivated business mom would do. I called up the vendor, explained my situation (I am new and just got hit with a bill I’m trying to understand; this is a tiny nonprofit; though they are repeat customers with excellent reputation who make good on their debts), and ended up offering to pay a percentage upfront that would allow us to retain a few thousand in funds until the next wave of revenue comes in. The coordinator on the other end was nice about it. She readily agreed to my offer and promised to send a revised contract tomorrow. This not only bought me another day to sign and pay, it helped redirect some money to more immediate needs. My boss was exceedingly grateful when I relayed to him the outcome of that conversation. And I was proud enough of myself for having the gall to proactively approach the vendor.

It has been awhile since I’ve tried applying my negotiation skills. It was one of the first exercises I did as part of my MBA immersion week. The professor made us keep a log of all the No’s we encountered over a week of making bolder, sometimes more ridiculous requests of people. The purpose was to help us understand and better perceive where a limit might lie. I’m not usually emboldened to be a pusher, but I also realized that sometimes it doesn’t hurt to ask when it feels like a little bonus to snag a perk that was otherwise not offered. Although, it was less my negotiation skills than my French skills when I read the brochure at the Menton Lemon Farm last year and caught the little callout that offered “un cadeau gratuit” for spending over a certain amount of euros. The lady at the counter was shocked that I caught it as she was ringing up my merchandise, and quietly slipped a little jar of Menton lemon jam into my shopping bag (ha!).

As I was dealing with being laid off during my pregnancy, my thoughts and anxieties around “getting a job” sublimated into a simple directive: “find a way to make some money.” And I think in doing so, my money stress lessened because I have been able to view money in a different way and make better on it — not only do I have a little extra income now, I’ve saving myself the huge potential expenses and mindfuckery associated with paying for childcare and a home chef. In the same vein, all the somewhat icky feelings I used to hold around the idea of negotiating felt much more productive once I managed to reframe it as “figure out how to nicely prod for what you want until you get it.” And sometimes I just want a little extra time, a little extra treat, or a little extra breathing room to work with. A little social media video I caught in my feed yesterday showed a pageant queen saying she’s lived enough life that her struggles built her character, but now that she’s older she no longer worships struggle and no one gets a special prize for choosing to go a more difficult path than others. As someone who’s accepted entering her swamp witch years soon, I will take all the perks offered to me without questioning whether it’s good for me. I will take it. And if it’s not offered, I will ask for it, persistently but nicely. Because I can.