He dropped into silence and I didn’t take the bait. I let
the silence linger. And then with a sigh he trudged off again.
He returned after another eternity.
“You win,” he said. “My manager okayed $32,500.”
He pushed a paper across the desk that even said “YOU
WIN” in big letters. The words were even surrounded with
smiley faces.
“I am so grateful. You’ve been very generous, and I
can’t thank you enough. The truck is no doubt worth more
than my price,” I said. “I’m sorry, I just can’t do that.”
Up he stood again. No smile now. Still befuddled. After
a few seconds, he walked back to his manager and I leaned
back. I could taste victory. A minute later—no eternity this
time—he returned and sat.
“We can do that,” he said.
Two days later, I drove off in my Salsa Red Pearl Toyota
4Runner—for $30,000.
God I love that truck. Still drive it today.
Most negotiations hit that inevitable point where the slightly
loose and informal interplay between two people turns to
confrontation and the proverbial “brass tacks.” You know
the moment: you’ve mirrored and labeled your way to a
degree of rapport; an accusation audit has cleared any
lingering mental or emotional obstacles, and you’ve
identified and summarized the interests and positions at
stake, eliciting a “That’s right,” and . . .
Now it’s time to bargain.
Here it is: the clash for cash, an uneasy dance of offers