“What we have to do, what at any rate it is our duty to do, is to revive the old art of lying.”
– Oscar Wilder
If you’ve ever worked as a salesman, I’m sure you know it’s all about lifting forward the benefits and avoiding talking about the potential warts.
Knowing this and wanting to get to the truth I was throwing in lies into the mix so that the salesman I was talking to would be more willing to divulge information not necessiraly on the table.
I lied about where I lived (told him right around the corner from the store, since if I could come back any time he’d want a good rapport), about the reason I was buying (business always seems more legit than personal use) and what my true intentions were (telling people you’re disgruntled by another company makes them want to prove themselves worthy).
I’m a little ashamed of it, but not terribly. We both know the game. He was just doing his job and had I told him straight up to be honest he would most likely have shut down.
For me, knowing that and also knowing that he probably gets a commission on the sale I saw it as a win-win in spite of the blatant dishonesty. I get a good deal, he gets a sale, I go out happy and he can proceed to jack up the prices on the next customer.
Here’s where things got tricky.
Once we’d sealed the deal and they were putting together the papers we had a moment to chat.
He asked me about where I used to live before moving there. So, I threw in a little bit of semi-honesty. I told him about the place where I actually live right now and told him I moved from there.
He nodded his head and said: “It’s right beside that canal, right?”.
“Yes! You… You live there?”
“Well, you know the park that goes up to the right when you’re heading into the city center? I live there.”
Fuck. Me. Slowly.
I just know that I’m going to run into him sometime and he’ll say “Oh, fancy meeting you here!” or some other bullcrap. It’ll be socially awkward and shit.
But I don’t really care. I got what I wanted, the deal is done and maybe we can manage to avoid eachother.
Otherwise, I feel like I get to tell him the truth. I mean, he cut me a decent deal and I owe him the courtesy of being honest about it.
Now, try to figure out whether this story is true or not.
How does “knowing” this information influence your perception of me or any other person you’ve come across who’s done something similar?
Perhaps you’ve done something like it yourself?
Let me know in the comments and hit me up on Twitter.
Have a kick-ass ₢eative day!