Now that you have been reading about dealmakers extraordinaire, consider the plight of the non-dealmaker. Case in point: me. Nowhere was my ineptitude on the ways and means of bargaining more glaringly displayed than when it came time to buy crypt space.
My wife and I, acknowledging the inevitable, had responded to an ad in the paper. For sale, two final resting places at a freeway-close cemetery not 15 minutes from our house (25 during rush hour). Seemed ideal well, as ideal as such matters can be. The sellers, it turned out, were an older couple who had moved to the desert and wanted a burial spot out there. We arranged to meet one Sunday afternoon.
Some due diligence on our part revealed that the couple’s price was slightly less than what we would be paying the cemetery directly. On inspection, our spots were in an ideal corner location, with a stone bench directly in front and away from stairs, elevators and trash cans.
I was ready to pull out my checkbook. But just as we start walking to the cemetery’s office to do the deal, my wife pulled me aside. Maybe we can get a better price. Bargaining on a crypt? I was not enthused. It just seems so undignified. We’re getting a small discount already, so why not just shake hands, transfer some papers and be done with it?
But what really filtered through my brain was the prospect of having to bargain. The truth is I hate to bargain, whether it’s for new cars or cemetery spots.
Perhaps it has something to do with not being very good at it understandable given that dealmaking is fast becoming a dying art. When you go to the supermarket, there is no dealmaking on the price of coffee or bananas. These transactions are non-negotiable. Even auto dealerships are introducing “no haggle” programs, where there’s one price take it or leave it.
Donald Trump believes that good dealmaking is something you’re born with. “It’s not about being brilliant,” he writes in his bestseller, “Trump The Art of the Deal.” “It does take a certain intelligence, but mostly it’s about instincts.”
That doesn’t just cover The Donald’s multi-million dollar buying and selling, but life’s everyday transactions. Like a job offer. A natural born dealmaker wouldn’t jump at the first number that’s handed him. That’s a courageous stance, as well as a calculated one. Again, I cite the maestro in such matters, Mr. Trump. “Leverage is the biggest strength you have,” he writes. “Leverage is having something the other guy wants. Or better yet, needs. Or best of all, simply can’t do without.”
In this case, you. So the dealmaker uses that leverage while also recognizing that, taken too far, the other side could reach the breaking point. That’s the moment where instead of being someone they can’t do without he suddenly becomes more trouble than he’s worth.
Still, it’s a mistake to confuse dealmakers with whiners or slackers. Some of the toughest negotiators are also among the most responsible, hard-working businesspeople. I’m reminded of a mega-millionaire who threatened to pull out of a six-figure office deal at the last minute because the landlord wasn’t throwing in some new carpeting that would have cost maybe two grand.
Foolish economy? That’s not the way he saw it. In his view, acquiescence is a sign of weakness; if he gave in, what would stop the next guy from seeking a break? Besides, why shell out $100 for something that you can get for $80? Given the success that Wal-Mart buyers have in bargaining down their vendors, it’s not such a crazy notion.
Nor is saving a few bucks on a crypt, right? We arrived in the cemetery office, exchanged pleasantries with the sellers, and then it came time for business. After being given a rundown on the terms of the transfer (price, upkeep, etc.), all eyes turned to the prospective buyers the folks with the leverage (and checkbook). Here was the moment I could speak up. “My wife and I were thinking it over and we just can’t do the deal for that price ” I would say, and they would look at each other and perhaps counter my counter and then I would counter their counter and after a few minutes of giving and taking, we would probably have a deal.
But as Trump correctly points out, dealmaking is not an acquired talent. You either have it or you don’t. So, we are now the proud owners of a two-space, freeway-close crypt, and our bank account is, well, it’s a few dollars shy of what it might otherwise have been. Perhaps some things in life are not worth the haggle.
*Mark Lacter is editor of the Business Journal. His regular weekly column returns in June.
