I’ve written many times about my love of making a ‘good deal.’ It doesn’t make any difference whether I’m trading for a new truck, piece of farm equipment, another farm or buying a set of cows; the enjoyment I get from ‘negotiating’ the absolute lowest price is as rewarding to me as the enjoyment I get from the purchase. While the trading process makes other people nervous wrecks (my wife and youngest son included), I consider it entertainment.
Just last week the electric stove at a farmhouse that I rent went kapooey. I’ve become good friends with the renter that has lived there for three years, so I invited him to go with me to the big-box store to purchase a new one. When we arrived at the large chain store, we went straight to their vast display of electric ranges. The cheapest one was at the far end of the display in the very back of the store and, luckily, it was marked down because it was the last model in a discontinued line. It was comparatively inexpensive, but knowing the store had a policy of free delivery, I asked the young salesman, “How much will you knock off the price if I haul it home with me today?”
The boy had a confused look on his face when he replied, “I don’t know what you’re asking, sir.” His response confirmed my belief that this art is a generational phenomenon.
Slowly, I explained that instead of having to pay two delivery people for a couple of hours of work, as well as pay for the fuel and wear on a truck to deliver the appliance, I would be willing to haul it on my truck if they would take less than the sale price. Still confused, he stated, “I’ve never had this question before. I’ll have to get my supervisor.”
A few minutes later, the young man returned with his supervisor, who appeared to be a few months older than the salesman and I had to explain my reasoning once again. The supervisor went to his computer terminal and spent the next five minutes typing stuff into the contraption. Finally, he looked up and said rather sheepishly, “I guess I could take off another 20 bucks.”
“Great,” I said, “let’s load it up!”
I paid for it, and my friend and I rolled it to the front door on a kart. As we loaded it onto my farm truck, my renter stated, “I didn’t even know you could barter with these big chain stores.” I just smiled.
I was relating this story to an old friend while we sat together at a cattle auction last Saturday and he got the biggest kick out of it. He, too, loves to negotiate on every big-ticket item he purchases and agrees that the younger generation simply doesn’t understand how the trading game is played. He relayed his disappointment in being unable to convince his kids how valuable this is in saving them significant amounts of money. I told him that he shouldn’t give up because my youngest son still feels that ‘negotiating’ makes him feel like the seller looks down on him as poor. On the other hand, my oldest son has become quite proficient and actually feels good about getting the lowest price and no longer is uncomfortable in doing so.
While we were talking about all this, my friend got a phone text from his wife asking him if she could transfer $200 from their savings account into her personal account so that she could purchase something she had just found at a store – something she just couldn’t live without.
“If I could teach my wife some bartering skills, I’d save a fortune,” he said while laughing.
“Ask her if she’d settle for $195,” I responded.
With an amused look on his face, I watched him type the counter offer into his phone. A few seconds later, his phone beeped with her reply.
“What did she say?” I asked.
He slapped his knee and leaned back in his chair. “She said O.K.! Who would have thought this could work on your WIFE!”
Jerry Crownover is a farmer and former professor of Agriculture Education at Missouri State University. He is a native of Baxter County, Arkansas, and an author and professional speaker. To contact Jerry about his books, or to arrange speaking engagements, you may contact him by calling 1-866-532-1960 or visiting ozarksfn.com and clicking on ‘Contact Us.’
