The Woes of The Unfortunate Low Baller

"WHAT'S YOUR BEST PRICE," AND ALL THE OTHER INTERESTING ENQUIRIES OF THE LOW-BALLER CLASS

MAKING OFFERS IS FINE - BUT CONSIDER THE CONSEQUENCES - LIKE BEING BARRED FROM THE SHOP

     IN OUR FAMILY SHOP, WE HAVE A RULE THAT HAS SERVED US WELL FOR MANY YEARS. I LAUNCHED THIS PLAN LONG BEFORE MY SONS, ANDREW AND ROBERT WERE BORN. IT WAS BACK IN MY FIRST ANTIQUE SHOP, THAT I OPERATED WITH MY PARENTS, MERLE AND ED, IN UPTOWN BRACEBRIDGE. WE CARRIED IT ON TO OUR SECOND SHOP IN BRACEBRIDGE, THIS TIME WITH MY WIFE SUZANNE, AND OUR TWO LADS, AS YOUNGSTERS, WHO USED TO HANG OUT AT THE STORE WAITING FOR KINDERGARTEN CLASSES TO START. THEN TODAY, WITH OUR THIRD SHOP, WHERE SUZANNE AND I WORK FOR SON ROBERT NOW. THE RULE HOLDS. "IF YOU MAKE AN INSULTING OFFER ON SOME ITEM IN THE SHOP, YOU WON'T BE BUYING IT FOR ANY PRICE!"

     I'M NOT A FIRST STRING ANTIQUE SHOP CLERK. AS I WAS A BACK-UP GOALTENDER IN HOCKEY, AND A LEFT FIELDER IN BASEBALL, I JUST LIKE BEING PART OF THE GAME, EVEN IF I'M NOT ALL-STAR MATERIAL. I OFFER A PREAMBLE APOLOGY TO OUR GUESTS, FOR ANYTHING I MAY DROP, WRAP IMPROPERLY, OR MISHANDLE OUT OF NERVOUSNESS. SUZANNE HAS TAUGHT ME A LOT ABOUT CUSTOMER SERVICE WHICH IS FINE. ONCE ALONE ON THE FRONT LINE, I PANIC. I HAVE A BELL THAT I CAN RING FOR THE BOYS, AND EVEN THEY KNOW HOW BADLY POP CAN SCREW-UP IF GIVEN HALF A CHANCE. I'M REALLY GOOD AT ANTIQUE HUNTING. MOST OF OUR WARES ARE THE RESULT OF MY HUSTLING ABOUT THE COUNTRYSIDE, FINDING NEAT AND HISTORIC PIECES, SO THAT ROBERT AND SUZANNE CAN OFFER THEM TO OUR PATRONS. ONE OF MY SHORTFALLS, VERSUS SUZANNE, IS THAT I HAVE A SHORT FUSE THAT WAS OKAY IN HOCKEY, IF SAY, YOU GOT INTO MY GOAL CREASE AND SAID SOMETHING ABOUT MY MOTHER WEARING ARMY BOOTS. IT'S NOT COOL IN THE DOMAIN OF AN ANTIQUE SHOP, TO LET AN IGNORANT COMMENT GET MY DANDER UP. GEEZ, I'VE BEEN AWAY FROM THE FRONT LINE FOR QUITE A WHILE NOW, AND ALTHOUGH IT'S TRUE I'VE BEEN THE CLERK DESIGNATE, SINCE SEPTEMBER LAST YEAR, TRUTH IS, IT HASN'T HELPED MY DISAGREEABLE DISPOSITION WITH THOSE WHO WISH TO MAKE SNIDE COMMENTS. AS A FORMER NEWSPAPER EDITOR AND PUBLIC RELATIONS DIRECTOR, AND ANTIQUE DEALER / COLLECTOR FOR MORE THAN 35 YEARS, I'VE GOT THE SCARS FROM DEEP WOUNDS INFLICTED BY MY CRITICS. SO THUSLY, ALTHOUGH NOT THE "A TEAM" CLERK, I'M AT LEAST A SURVIVOR OF PUBLIC OPINION. AND OUTSIDE OF HOCKEY, I'VE NEVER HIT ANYONE BECAUSE I DIDN'T LIKE WHAT THEY CALLED ME. OF COURSE SUZANNE IS MY BODYGUARD IN ANTIQUES AND WRITING. LAST NIGHT I GOT SEVENTY EMAILS, AND SEVERAL OF THEM WERE KIND.

     THE POLICY I MENTIONED EARLIER, IS HARD AND FAST IN OUR COMBINED FAMILY ENTERPRISES, WHICH ALL DEAL WITH VINTAGE ITEMS, FROM GUITARS, DRUMS, BANJOS TO CHAIRS, CUPBOARDS, OLD GLASS AND BOOKS. WE HAVE THOUSANDS OF CUSTOMERS EACH YEAR, AND WE'RE ALL USED TO THE "LOW BALLERS," AMONGST OUR CLIENTELE. WE DON'T HATE THEM, AND HEAVEN KNOWS WE TOLERATE THEM. BUT TODAY FOR EXAMPLE, I EXPERIENCED A LOW BALL FROM LEFT FIELD; AND FOLLOWING MY REFUSAL TO DROP HALF THE VALUE, THE GUY BASICALLY CALLED ME AN A..HOLE ON THE WAY OUT. NOW I MAY BE AN A--HOLE. I'VE HEARD IT BEFORE, AND HAD IT SHOUTED AT ME WHEN I WAS PLAYING NET, OR GUARDING THE OUTFIELD. IT JUST SEEMS SO RIDICULOUS TO HAVE IT HAPPEN IN A LITTLE COLLECTIBLE SHOP, IN A SMALL ONTARIO TOWN, ON AN OTHERWISE CHEERFUL TUESDAY. IT'S TRUE THAT I WANTED TO CHASE DOWN THE HALL, AND THROW A FLYING TACKLE ON THE GUY, AND MAKE HIM APOLOGIZE. BUT HAVING TUTORED MY BOYS TO BE KIND IN THE FACE OF ADVERSITY, AND NOT WANTING TO BE A HYPOCRITE, WHERE THEY WOULD ACTUALLY SEE ME WRESTLING THIS OLD FART, I SUCKED IT UP, PINCHED MYSELF HARD, AND WENT ON READING A COOKERY HISTORY I'VE RECENTLY BE ENAMORED WITH. GADS, IF MY HOCKEY BUDDIES COULD SEE ME NOW.

     EVERY ANTIQUE DEALER ON THE FACE OF THE EARTH, AT SOME POINT, (SOME MORE NUMEROUS THAN OTHERS), HAS HAD TO DEAL WITH "THE OFFER." I WOULD HAVE BEEN GLAD TO ENTERTAIN A REASONABLE OFFER, ON THIS DAY, AND MAY HAVE EVEN HAD THE WILL TO MAKE A COUNTER-OFFER. I JUST DIDN'T LIKE THE HALF-PRICE LOW BALL TO START WITH, AND I SUPPOSE, MY HEELS DUG INTO THE CARPET. AND IT LEFT IMPRINTS, SO I MUST HAVE BEEN MAD. IN THIS CASE, NOT GETTING HIS WAY, (BECAUSE HE THOUGHT I WAS OUT OF MY ELEMENT ON THIS ITEM), HE DECIDED THAT I WAS DESERVING OF AN EDITORIAL BARB. I WAS A LOSER, AND IT WOULD BE THE BEST OFFER I WOULD EVER GET. WHAT I THOUGHT WAS A SHORTAL OF DUE DILIGENCE ON HIS PART, WAS THAT HE WOULDN'T EVEN TAKE FIVE MINUTES, TO FIND OUT WHO I WAS; AND ABOUT MY BACKGROUND IN ANTIQUES AND COLLECTIBLES. YOU SEE, HE HAD THIS FIRM BELIEF THAT HE KNEW IT ALL, AND THAT I WAS SO STUPID, IT'S A WONDER I KNEW HOW TO GET INTO MY RUNNING SHOES EACH MORNING. IT'S NOT THAT WE'RE ADVERSE TO NEGOTIATING ON PRICES, BUT JUST NOT WITH BAD ACTORS. THOSE WHO WISH TO BERATE WHEN THEY DON'T GET THEIR WAY. HOW BAD DOES IT GET WITH LOW BALLERS? TALK ABOUT WRITING A BOOK OF FACT, THAT WOULD READ LIKE FICTION. BOY OH BOY DO I HAVE SOME STORIES, IF YOU PLAN ON WRITING ONE SOME DAY.

WALLY THE WEASLE - THE BOOK GUY

     Of all the tools I've met in my years clerking in the antique trade, it was the guy my wife and I called, without any affection, 'Wally the Weasel." I never did know his real name, but it doesn't matter for the purposes of this overview. Wally was a known book collector / dealer, from Southern Ontario, who used to make frequent visits to Muskoka, to cottage, and when he was bored, would arrive all keen and anticipatory, at our Bracebridge shop, to brow-beat me for recreation. He was like a character Washington Irving might have crafted in his strange fiction……a sort of modern day version of Ichabod Crane, of Sleepy Hollow fame.

    When I saw him come around the corner of the shop, honest to God, my heart would sink into my stomach. He made every transaction a living hell. The problem was most extreme, when he showed up while I was working alone. If Suzanne was working as well, we'd tag-team him, meaning honestly, it took two of us to keep him under control. But here's what he was famous for: arriving at the sales counter, with armloads full of books, and making several trips, usually on a busy summer day, and then arriving at the counter, snorting and farting about, wiping his nose and then touching the books, and with a nasal whine like a dirt bike, would demand a better price than what was individually marked on the books. At times, there may have been as many as thirty books on the counter at one time. He would want us to go through each book, and give him our best price. This meant a back up of other customers, and then after writing all the discount prices down, he would start sorting books he didn't wish to buy (because the discount was not enough), and often, berate me for my half-hearted discounting effort. He could stand there, in front of me, for an hour, and still have lots of vigor left, to criticize my every movement on his behalf. While normally, it would be a pleasing sight, for a dealer, to see so much piled up by a customer…..Wally took the heart and soul out of us.  Honestly, by time I got the guy processed, and out of the store, I would have lost days of my life to stress…..for a small profit. Wally could read me, and whether it was the bulging veins or not, there must have been the odor of anger he detected…..because although he was critical and liked to brag about his accomplishments in the field of old books, he never hit the threshold, where I just might have thrown myself over the counter, lunging for his shirt collar. I figured that just having him leave the store, and knowing he wouldn't be back for a couple of months, always made me feel good enough to forget the jagged critiques and put-downs.

     He was the one person I allowed a little flexibility with my rule, because by rights, I should have barred him from the shop. He just stayed inside the line, so I had to stick to the letter of my protocol, and deal with his whining and weaseling, just to get to the enjoyable part of saying "goodbye." Now most dealers factor in the reality, that a customer will make an offer on some piece of inventory. It's inevitable, and why most of us veterans of the profession, make sure to pad the asking price a tad, to be able to negotiate. It's not really a trade secret because most customers, who have experience with antique shop buying, know this as obvious fact, because of their own dickering and negotiations. Many antique dealers hate this part of the business, but there's not much you can do about it……and it is global anyway. It's not like they only low-ball in Canada or the United States. In some places of the world, haggling is part of the retail experience, and it would be a lesser event if full price was offered. It's a sort of tradition. A recreational element to commerce. A lot of shop-keeps here get offended and I understand this…..because it demonstrates a mistrust on the part of the shopper, who has, by making an offer, suggested the actual retail price was "pie in the sky-high." In other words, it's insulting. In our shop, we can handle offers, because we understand it to be part of the antique and second hand tradition of buy and sell. It's when, every now and again, some smart ass wants to show their prowess at haggling, and acquisition, by making a ridiculous offer, and then feeling compelled, if not accepted, to diminish the clerk as a human being. Every week, there are at least four or five of these dolts, and we have to enact our shop policy. Call us names, we can deal with the shame. Curse us, never come back to us!

     There was a chap who approached me about a very old hockey card we had, on display during the sports' card craze of the early 1990's, while operating our Bracebridge shop. He wanted to make me an offer, of which I wasn't adverse. I was asking twenty-five dollars for the nicely preserved card, with sharp corners and clear graphics, and he offered me five dollars. I gave him "the look," and went back to reading my book. So he started to explain to me, why I was a fool to dismiss his offer so casually, as he had 30,000 cards, dating back to Biblical times; and he had even been consulted by a television reporter, to comment on the trends of the industry. As a wordsmith, I could have written the guy an essay in about five minutes, about the reason I was not going to accept his offer, even if his picture had been on the front of that hockey card. Verbally, I wasn't nearly so good getting my point across. It was when he began insulting me, and our small business, that he crossed the line of my protocol. So I just ignored him at this point, and after mumbling something about the "jerk behind the counter," left the shop. I looked at the card again, and thought to myself, I'll bet this guy is going to come back. I have a gut feeling about these things. Thus, being responsive to my intuition, I pulled the card out of the showcase, and put it in my briefcase for the time being. Well sir, it wasn't a half hour before the guy came back, and actually brought his wife in for moral support. He approached the counter like a gunslinger, and told me that I was going to sell him that card……because he had doubled his offer to ten dollars. I can't describe the feeling of ecstasy, at being able to look up…..way up, from my sitting position, and reply, like a stinging right hook to the chin, "That's swell buddy, but the card is no longer for sale." I thought the bloke's head was going to explode. "What do you mean it's not for sale?" he barked. "I was just in here……you couldn't have sold it already." "Oh, I didn't sell it…..sir, I just decided to keep it instead." He didn't like my attitude and he let me know just how big a bum I was…..and he was going to tell all his friends to boycott our shop. It was his opinion, that he could pull the strings that would shut me down. Then his wife began snapping at me, as if she could unclench my fist on the hockey card, her charming husband wanted. Suzanne walked in, at that moment, having just arrived at the shop, after her day teaching at the neighborhood high school. She saw the red blotches on my face, and, as she knew me when I was "the brawling goalie" from my hockey days, decided to intervene quickly. She'd seen that look before, and it always ended badly. Suzanne, as a teacher, is used to dealing with conflict situations. Those two dissatisfied customers, were up the stairs and out the door in a couple of seconds. You know, that was circa 1991. She's still doing the same for me today. I admire the way she employs kind diplomacy instead of brute force. Today however, I was caught alone in a situation that was a close parallel to that incident of '91. I calmed myself down, and decided that if the gentleman returns with a counter offer, to the first low ball, the item he wished to purchase will no longer be for sale. End of conflict.

     I have never talked with an antique dealer yet, who hasn't had amusing anecdotes about the "low ballers," common to our profession. We're not all on the same page, when it comes to our reactions, or the way we handle problem customers, but some of the stories are absolutely hilarious…..and the outcomes paralleling "Shane" taking on the bad guys in the saloon (from the movie "Shane" of course). I want to take you to the auction circuit in tomorrow's blog, for another little inside tip, about how you shouldn't treat an auctioneer……by the first hand experiences of an auction junkie…..me. Thanks for joining me today, on this bitter, strange, crazy winter day, with blowing snow, rain, freezing rain, and more snow. It's what happens in Muskoka when you get a late winter. Beware of everything following Groundhog Day. See you again soon.