Just Say No

Apparently "no" is today's word of the day.

When it comes to business, I hate to say "no" but more than a decade of occasional miscalculations with clients has taught me the hard way.

I had to turn down three jobs today.  It had (almost) nothing to do with the fact that I was cranky after relocating the contents of a home in the blazing heat...and the flat tire...and, and whatever.

It rarely takes me more than sixty seconds to make a rough assessment of a potential client on the phone.  Most often they have called with the intention of selling items through us.  I must then often navigate a minefield of unrealistic expectations and exaggerated opinions of the marketability of belongings.

My mind has become a sort of spam filter, instantly reacting to certain key words and phrases.  If I hear the wrong words, chances are the conversation will be cut short and I will make my standard recommendations involving eBay and Craigslist.  "But that takes too much time" the voice on the other end of phone protests.  "I would like this done quickly."  Anything can be done quickly as long as the client is realistic.  Many are not.

Even in prosperous times, reality can sting.  In a recession....it can be downright painful.

For those who are experienced car buyers, it is a well known fact that once you drive a new vehicle off the lot, it loses a chunk of its value.  It is now "used" or rather "pre-owned."  Your shiny new ride has left the primary market and rolled into the secondary market.  With rare exceptions, this principle applies to nearly every type of consumer product.  Some items suffer huge amounts of depreciation once they aren't new.   Nearly everyone can use a car, but how many people want a bleached oak dining room set?  Almost nobody does "formal" dining anymore.  Nowadays, the bigger and heavier it is, the less people want it. Not to mention nobody has any money...for anything.  This can make the secondary market a very brutal place to be if you are trying to sell something huge....quickly.

So...I'm hauling boxes out of an attic, I'm covered with sweat and shreds of pink insulation and the phone rings.  The first words I hear are "Dining Room Set", "paid something, something thousand for it" and something about coming to pick it up along with a huge sofa and an entertainment center.  Very bad words.

When flat panel TV's entered the scene, the piece of furniture known as the Entertainment Center ceased to have value.  It was designed to hold the giant tube TV's that came just before their cooler, sleeker offspring.  Pound for pound, firewood now has a greater market value than an entertainment center.  Firewood also burns cleaner.  It matters not that the behemoth piece of furniture cost three grand just a few years ago.  The market is the market.  I can understand the pain a potential seller can feel especially if the dinosaur is still being paid off via revolving debt.  I can't help that. 

When the woman on the phone caught her breath after my right hook of reality, she then asked if I charged to pick up the items.  I said yes and provided her with a very modest figure of about $200 since we only try to cover our costs on pick ups.  Silence...then "That much?"  Yes, that much.  The conversation wasn't going well.

Last I checked, the average Entertainment Center, constructed of compressed and laminated particle board (oatmeal) weighs about 200-300 pounds.  Most dining room sets come with chairs, a big heavy table and at least one huge, heavy, glass encrusted china cabinet with multiple glass shelves.  The average modern sofa is a monster as well, usually bulky enough to ensure going through doors or around corners will be an complicated exercise in physics and solid geometry.  I won't even get into what happens if a flight of stairs is involved.  It's also hot outside and hotter in the trailer and the whole lot of it needs to be moved again when we get to the gallery.  I pay for gas, labor, insurance etc.  Two hundred bucks isn't asking a lot considering that the commission on those items in today's market might buy the crew a pizza.  On a good day it might have pepperoni on it.  

"Try Craigslist." I said.  She replied that she had done that already but nobody would pay $3,000.  "Too high." I replied.  "Try $750."  "That little?" She huffed.  "I can't change the market...sorry."  She capitulated and said "Well, we might have to take what we can get." 

This is the tough reality.  It is exacerbated by the functional obsolescence created by the constant introduction of new products.  Designers toil day and night to create newer, sleeker products that make everything we own look like yesterday's news.  In six months, the cycle starts all over again.  My answer?  If you have to buy, don't buy new. Recycle! Buy at auction.

Add this to the group that includes electric typewriters, console stereos and the Encyclopedia Britannica.