Free valet parking -- now? How timing your askings right can bring better results

This weekend, I was in Portland, Oregon for two fun filled days. Mr. A and I snagged the tickets during a crazy Southwest Airlines sale all the way back in June, when October seemed like a hypothetical crouching somewhere over the horizon.... That is, until our flight hit this Saturday morning at 6 a.m., leaving us little time for suitcases and planning between cascading work deadlines --

But it all worked out. We had a great time. La Sorella drove down from Seattle. We cupped coffee at Stumptown and sampled taco trucks and plundered Powell's Books for some amazing reads. And... I asked for free valet parking. Here's the how (and why):

I'd reserved a discounted hotel room on Hotwire which didn't include the $20/night valet parking. Our hotel, the Avalon, seemed far below capacity, at least judging from the parking lot. On Saturday, we went about our business, and when we go back that night around 2:30, it was raining. And the lot was still almost empty. To be safe, instead of the lot we parked on the sidewalk just outside the hotel -- what luck! there was a spot! -- and checked that there were no signs. It looked clear. To be extra safe, I ducked inside and asked the parking valet if there was streetsweeping, a permit, or any hidden reason why we should move.

"You should have no problems," he answered.

I turned around to tell the others to leave the car and come inside, when he ran after me with this update: "Actually, my manager says you can't park there. It's a private way."

"I see. Ok."

Outside, we conferred: Was it really a private way or was that just a line? After all, his first answer was to say we could park there -- wouldn't he know the deal? Would they tow us if we left it there? Did we really want to go for street parking, which entailed a 10 minute walk in the rain? But pay $20 when the lot was empty, when we wouldn't pay $20 when the lot was full? No way.

We were about to pull away in the car when I pulled away from the group.

"Be right back!"

I walked up to the manager.

"Hi, how are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. How can I help you?"

"I'm the one who was asking about parking a car outside, and here's the thing: Can we just please leave it on the sidewalk overnight, since it's late and your lot isn't full? For free?"

"What kind of car do you have?"

"A black Ford."

"Is it a hybrid?"

"No."

"Darn, because we have free parking for hybrids."

"Argh, that's nice, but it's not a hybrid. Do you think.... we can just move it inside the lot, please?"

"Why don't you want to park on the street, up the hilll? It's not far."

"Honestly, because it raining, it's late, and I'm not going to pay $20 when there are free spots, and I'm just feeling lazy. I could walk back in the rain but I just want to go up to bed and curl up and fall asleep."

She nodded, smiled and agreed -- but only for one night. We left the keys with the valet and headed upstairs for a very good night's sleep.

Saved: 10 minutes the rain and/or $20. So worth it, for this Southern California girl.

Here's a post-asking takeaway reflection:

It seems like a positive story -- avoided rain, avoided spending $20 and got to bed sooner. And the manager was certainly kind. But after the fact, I realize that I didn't play my cards right.

The more you seem you want something, the less bargaining power you have. This is Asking 101, but what's interesting, to me, is how this axiom can sneak up on you.

Sometimes, it's easy to avoid showcasing your desire. What's harder is realizing when you're projecting desire inadvertently. When your situation tacitly or implicitly betrays your desire or need. And, most importantly, when you've backed yourself into a corner and need or desire something, when you might not have otherwise.

In this situation, I put myself at a tactical disadvantage.

I walked in wet and tired.

It was clear that I reeeeally wanted that free, convenient parking.

And it was clear to the manager that one night of free, convenient parking for me was worth a lot -- perhaps what two or three nights might value, for someone else.

What if I'd opted for a different route: Called ahead and asked for 2 nights of free parking as I weighed different hotel options? Or asked, casually, while checking in? In fact, I never hesitate to ask a hotel for an extra little perk I might need or desire. Many hotels strive to accommodate, especially in this economy. And when you're asking in advance, you're the opposite of needy -- you're discerning and empowered. This time, it just didn't occur to me.

So timing is one thing to consider is when you're asking. While the inconvenience or cost to the other party might be the same earlier or later, the perceived benefit to you if you ask later is sometimes greater -- so the value is greater. Asking a friend for a lift to the airport the next morning seems last minute and desperate -- so countes a hefty favor. Asking someone 2 weeks ahead seems like a piece of cake.

(On the flipside, just to cover all our bases, sometimes last minute asking can pay off royally, too. "Hi, do you have any rooms left over/parking places I could use/extra cream cheese to throw in with my package -- since it's the end of the day/week/season?")

I loved Portland, by the way. Anyone else out there?

[image source -- in time for Halloween: ToonPool.com]

Attention Daily Asker Readers: Free resume edit

Dear Carolyn, Callie, and anyone else who's interested,

If you're looking for a job and you have a resume and cover letter you're grappling with, send them my way. I'll be happy to edit them.

That's the offer I extended to the people of Craigslist, and there's no reason I wouldn't do the same for my amazing readers!!

Email your materials to thedailyasker [at] gmail and include this:

1. a very brief overview of the position you're aiming for
2. if applicable, any issues/concerns you have with your current resume/letter
3. a phone number where I can reach you (feel free to mask your address, but phone is useful if I have questions and better than email for these kinds of things)

Everything you give me is confidential. I will never use your materials, emails or name to promote my resume editing services, as a sample, as a blog post, whatever.

So what are you waiting for!?

Send them in!

[unrelated awesome image of tyroleans gettin jiggy, via ffffound]

Let me edit your resume, internet denizen?

Every few months, I post a note in the Craigslist "writing services offered" section. It goes something like this:

Looking for a job?

I can edit your resume and cover letter for free.

No strings, no obligation.

Pro resume writers, I'm not trying to put you out of business. But in this difficult economic climate, I've decided to reach out to people who can't afford professional services or who want an extra set of eyes to look over their materials.

You can send me your documents directly or email me first to find out about my experience or request a reference.

Suerte!

That's not the exact text (since I change it a bit every time), but I think you get the idea.

So far, one person has replied: a woman who, I am thrilled to report, found a job about 2 months after I revised her materials!! She was intelligent and capable, but she was totally underselling herself. I don't think she saw herself in her target position until her updated resume reminded her who she was, what she'd accomplished, and what her objectives where. As soon as she got her confidence back, BOOM. Hired.

As they say in Gujarat... DANG!

I posted such a note again today, and I'm curious to see if anyone will reply. I'm a little surprised only one person has responded in more than six months of occasional posts.

I just hope people don't think I'm some sketchy plagiarist or something.

Hmm.

Will you vouch for me if they ask for references? ;)

[image via fadetheory]

Free vision exam?

I'm about to finish a part time gig. Before I do, I realize there might be one opportunity I shouldn't miss: a free eye exam sponsored by my employer.

I don't wear glasses or contacts, and the last time I got tested I think I was 22. My eyes are largely okay, meaning I've gotten used to the lack of definition in people's features and have learned to distinguish if objects are moving away or toward me based on their shadows. I'm totally fine.

Kidding, people.

But I do think it's time for a checkup.

So I asked two friends who work with me there if they get free eye exams. Apparently, they are entitled to a free one per year. I don't know if I qualify, since I'm part time and on my way out, but if they can squeeze one in before my last day of work, that will be on less thing to think about.

I guess I could have called a health care benefits department directly and asked, but that would have been too simple.

[image via flickr]

Can you give me a tour of the UN?

Hello from 10,000 feet!!

Gogo, an in-flight wifi provider, gave out free passes to everyone on my plane before boarding. As a result of that freebie, which I didn't even have to ask for,

1) I'm-a disclosin', per FCC rules.

2) I'm admitting my bias: Let the record state that given the choice between a flight without free wifi thanks to Gogo, and one with it, I would opt for the latter. Now you know.

and

3) I'm happy!! Because I have some askings to report.

In chronological order:

At the conference, I met a guy who gives tours of the U.N. He shared a few funny stories about the sheltered people taking his tours -- like people who think African is a language. At the end of our chat, when he told me to let him know if I ever want a tour, I took down his contact info. I didn't plan on following up so soon, but today I found myself with a few hours to kill -- in New York.

So I dropped him this email:

SUBJECT: UN Tour?

BODY: Hi Name,

We met briefly at Yale this weekend, when you kindly invited me to get in touch if I'd ever like a tour of the UN.

I'm actually in NY today with some free time before I head back to California. I have no idea how it works -- if one needs advance tickets or a reservation -- but if you have room in any of your tours today, I'd love to come and at last see the UN in person!

Thanks, best wishes,
La Roxy

He replied in a matter of minutes, saying that I should give him my number and if he can make it happen, he'll let me know. I shot back my number.

Alas, I write to you from the flight after no phone call. I had an awesome afternoon (including one retail asking, detailed in the next post), so no regrets. Even though it didn't work out, I appreciate whatever efforts he made on my behalf.

Now I really want to take that tour! Can't believe I've been to NY so many times and never visited the UN. Am I not, like, the cliche of the sheltered, dumb American? Ohmigod, time to, like, recitify that, and improve my cross-cultural understandings. I'll stop for tacos or pho when I get back to Cali.

UPDATE: The guide just wrote back to say he was swamped all day with school groups, but to try again next time I'm in NY. I shall look forward to it. Thanks again for the invitation!

By the way, here are a few pics of the self-guided tour I took instead:

Sunset reflecting off of some building near JFK.

Trash, East Village. I'd love to ask that shoe where its other half went.

Preschoolers in Morningside Park.

2 for 1 cheesecake?

Friday, July 3

My mom treated me to a healthy, organic and generally motherly lunch at a place she heard about on the radio, called Tender Greens. The food was unremarkable, but the cheesecake -- a fluffy wedge drenched in blackberry jam -- was to die for.

Mr. A was getting back from a business trip Friday night, and he loves cheesecake. At $5 a pop, two slices were out of the question, but I had one thing going for me: the servers hand cut each piece from the whole cake.

Not precut = more leeway = more cash maximization potential.

I walked up to the counter, asked for a slice to go, and added this plug. "Can I get an extra big slice? My boyfriend is going do ADORE your cheesecake! I just had a slice, and I think it's the best cheesecake I've ever had!!"

She carved out a quarter of the cake and dumped it into a to-go box. WOW. Thanks!!

Gained: Two portions for the price of one. Saved $5.

Give me a kleenex? And a free pizza?

June 21. Day 356.

I went on a bike ride today with Mr. A and a friend, the K-meister. We started in the middle of Point Loma and rode up to the lighthouse.

For those readers not from San Diego, i.e. most of you, that means we rode approximately 5 miles each way, up hill and knoll, and then careened back down the gentle slopes after a lovely break at a historic lighthouse overlooking the bay.

5 miles is an objective standard.

Subjectively, allow me to add that it felt like I skinned a 2,000 pound potato with a butter knife.

We rode long enough that my legs were trembling and I hee-hawed the whole way.

It was so intense that at the top, when our ride was half over, I stretched out on a bench and actually fell asleep, while the guys rode up and down a steep hiking path that led to the beach, for a real workout.

To top it off, I had a runny nose, and there were no stores where I could buy tissues or even ask for a napkin.

Instead, I decided to beg mercy from a fellow human. I thought of knocking on anyone's door, but an easier option presented itself.

Before my nap, a couple with two young kids walked by the bench where I was recovering.

"Excuse me, do you have a kleenex?" I asked, eyeing their generous diaper bag.

They have two toddlers and look the part. Meaning it probably takes more than the request of a sweaty, sleepy biker to phase them.

"No, sorry! All we have is wet wipes," the mom offered.

"Oh, no, that's okay. Thanks anyway."

Gained I: Nothing. Because a wet wipe would only make things worse.

For all my dramatic whining here, the trek was actually awesome. The ideal 72 degree Sunday afternoon breezy bike ride with postcard views. Great to be back in San Diego. And, today makes me think that I should try to build up some muscles or resistance. Sheesh.

Out: Feeling like you're 70 when you're almost 30. In: the exact opposite!!!

Afterward, we stacked the bikes onto the car rack, made a detour to see a movie, then drove to the newest branch of Pizzeria Luigi, which has my favorite NY-style pizza in San Diego. A seditious faction of the storied Bronx Pizza, a San Diego popular favorite, broke off a few years ago and started its own joint, pruning and culling staff from the other NY-style pizzerias around the city.

Or so goes the rumor.

Some say the sauce is just perfect. Others prefer the crust. I dig, and dig into, them both.

We tumbled in, exhausted, but before we ordered I checked one key thing:

"Do you guys take credit cards? Cause we don't have cash."

"We don't, but that's okay. Today is free."

"What?"

"We're testing things out this weekend, making sure everything goes smoothly, so we're giving everything away free."

"Really???"

"Yeah. What can I get you?"

"I don't know. What's your favorite pizza?" I asked.

"I love the margherita. It's really light and fresh. I'd say that's my favorite," he told me.

Pause. You know what the old La Roxy would have ordered, same time last year: a slice of whatever. Must not impose. Must not be, or seem, greedy. Enjoy the offer, but not too much. It would be unseemly.

For an instant I was tempted to do precisely that, even today. Even after a year of asking.

Instead, I snapped out of it just in time and asked for two slices and a water.

"Sure -- so one whole margherita pizza and a slice of mushroom?"

At that point I was confused.

"You're seriously giving away whole free pizzas?" I checked.

"Yeah."

"Oh my God, thank you!!!! I live in the neighborhood and I promise to become a very good customer."

He laughed.

We ate.

And I am spreading the word.

Anyone in this town, or passing through, listen up: I liked Luigi's pizza before today, and now I like their attitude, too. Seriously the best thin crust "a-round." Heehee.

Gained II: About $25 worth of food, with 3 slices, the pizza, two waters and sales tax between the three of us. Not exactly a direct gain, i.e. by walking in and asking for free food, but I'm including it because I started with a question, and then I milked the situation for all it was worth: a guilt free acceptance of a generous pizza-fest. (Yes, we left a nice tip.)

The pic above is a nice angle from the Fifth Deadly Sin.

Am I fat and sad, or do I just look the part?

February 6. Day 221.

A man walked up to me tonight holding a stack of books and he offered me two of his treasures. A how-to manual for lowering your cholesterol in 8 weeks, and a faded hardback from 1977 about... jogging.

He was trying to get rid of them, he didn't manage to sell them to the used bookstore down the street, and wouldn't I like these two?

I declined, telling him someone else would probably appreciate them more.

"I don't jog," I explained, smiling. (That's an understatement, by the way. Jogging is antithetical to everything I believe in. Various joggers in my life: "Just try it... Come once! It's such a high!! You can invest in some cool new shoes, listen to music, or not, and we can get an iced coffee along the way at this cute place I know, for a well-earned pick me up. Roxy: "Sounds like a plan! Can we just skip the jogging?")

"Just look through it, maybe you'll find something useful," this man said, and handed both books to me. I took them. As he walked away, I saw he had two other books in his stack -- one about personal finance and one called "Writers on Writing," which, perhaps, he'll offer to a track and field blogger?

I'm being wry, but actually this man was an interesting figure.

I was at Starbucks, trying one of their new chai latte drinks and clearing my mind after a long day. I spotted a fat leather loveseat, next to a basket full of discarded newspapers, ordered my drink and plopped down.

As I sat reading an article in TIME (which Mr. A gets thanks to a free subscription that came with a purchase at Fry's Electronics) -- about people who mooch off of news organizations for free content -- a man opened the door and headed straight for the newspaper basket.

"There goes my paper..." I thought. "But first come, first served. Namaste, old man."

And then he headed for the door.

At first I figured he had as much claim on the paper as I did. It was the communal Starbucks paper, and if I didn't claim it by putting it on a table or reading it, it was available to anyone. Even if I was sitting next to it and wanted it. Intention is nothing.

But since I bought a drink and those papers are meant for patrons (at least, I wouldn't take one without a purchase -- or asking -- and I'd apply the same standard to someone else), I felt I had dibs. Anyway, couldn't hurt to ask, right?

"Excuse me, I was about to read that paper," I began. He stopped and turned around.

"Oh. You want it? Here you go." He handed me the whole messy pile. The wrinkles on his face constricted with disappointment.

I felt bad. I didn't have a strong case -- it was in the basket next to my seat, not in my lap. And, I didn't want the whole thing -- just the A section and arts. It all took about 4 seconds, you know? And now I felt like a tyrant. My paper! I have dibs! Poor guy comes in from the cold, maybe can't afford a paper, let a lone a coffee, and I ruin his chance to catch up on the news. Or maybe he just hates Starbucks but likes current events. Who am I to judge?

"Could we share it?" I asked now. I split it in half and handed him a few sections.

"Do you have the sports section there?" he replied.

"Lemme see... I do. You want it?"

"Yeah, that's what I was looking for."

He turned around and walked away.

"Sorry," I added, still feeling like a jerk.

Then, something unexpected happened. He turned around and smiled. "Do not be sorry," he commanded. "Be happy."

And he offered me his books.

Gained: The A Section. Two books I don't want, but someone else might. Any takers?

Elemental shopathon! And, free movie rental?

October 25. Day 117.

"I hope she knows this is just going to be a regular, boring shopping trip..."

This is what Phred, half of the force behind Elemental, told Laurie, the other half, before we met Saturday morning.

From the moment they showed up, Laurie holding a thick notebook of ideas and ingredients and Phred in a pinstripe suit and dark orange pocket square, at 8 a.m. on a Saturday, I knew it would be anything but. (On Wednesday, if you recall, I had asked her if I could tag along on a food shopping trip, after one of the most amazing restaurant experiences I've ever had. We decided to meet at Whole Foods on 64th and Roosevelt, where they do their daily run. They were going to be catering a wedding for 75 that night.)

We started in the cafe, where they devised the menu as they downed a pair of Americanos. Their catering, like the restaurant itself, is all or nothing: Laurie and Phred decide everything, from the champagne to the type of bread under the salmon toasts.

As they were going over the list of ingredients, I was a little confused. One pomegranate? A bag of endives? That's how much I'd buy for dinner for four!!

But slowly, slowly, it registered: when you're making such a huge variety of dishes, you don't need loads of every ingredient. You make just enough of each item to tease the palate, set a couple such dishes on the counter, stand back, and watch it get devoured.

Yum. Repeat. Yum. Repeat. Yum. Repeat. Yum. Repeat. Yum. Repeat. Yum.

In the produce section, I followed them around asking questions. They shop here five days a week because it keeps their menu offerings fresh and flexible. They live in a houseboat. Before Elemental, he was the sommelier at Union League, another Seattle restaurant, and she was a server there. She's a self-taught chef. Spent her formative years in Colorado. He loves Paris. Nothing like Paris. She just went to Grammercy Tavern in NY for the first time and adored it. They never advertise their restaurant.

When we got to the dried fruit aisle, I started feeling restless. Useless, actually. I was being nosy. They were rushing around, preparing to feed a small army.

"Please put me to work," I begged. Laurie asked me to bag some dried dates. A few aisles later, they added a second cart and split up to be more efficient. Phred -- white pepper. Laurie -- cheese. I took turns pushing each cart or grabbing items from the shelves.

The menu, if you're curious: roasted suckling pig, butternut squash lasagna, halibut with bacon, asian pear crab cakes under a persimmon chutney, a dried fruit mostarda, tuna tartare, salmon on rye, a bone marrow confection, stuffed piquillos, escargot crostini, chicken liver mousse profiteroles, endive salad, onion tarts, suppli, saffron risotto, and I'm sure I'm missing some things, but that's the general idea.

One hour, two brimming shopping carts and $983 later, we were off to the next destination: Pig pickup from a seafood and butcher shop a few blocks away. It arrived in a long, narrow white box. Like a really large bouquet of flowers. Edible, juicy, fall off the bone tender flowers.

Jacques, their black poodle, who'd been waiting in the car, was in a tizzy at the prospect of sharing a ride with Piglet, so Laurie rode back to the restaurant with me.

Back at Elemental. Two other chefs arrived to help Laurie start cooking. Phred made us coffees with Baileys and Whiskey. One chef, who works at local restaurant and trained with Laurie, made risotto while the other chopped onions and plopped them into a huge pot with butter. Laurie set me up at a table, where I sliced up some Manchego-like cheese and stuffed the piquillo peppers, which would eventually be deep fried.

"We don't try to do too much to the food. We don't fuck with it," Laurie told me before I started stuffing. Simple, good ingredients. A few steps from start to finish. "It's not precious food."

Soon, the smell of sauteed onions filled the place. It was time for me to leave. The time I normally wake up on a Saturday. Time to meet La Sorella for a drive to photograph fall leaves (her first autumn in leaf country).

As for Saturday's asking:

That night, I went to Hollywood video and requested a free movie rental. No real reason. Just: "Is there any way you could let me rent one, get one free, please? I'm trying to get one cool discount today for a project, and I haven't gotten anything yet!"

Jesse looked behind the counter.

"We don't have any coupons," he announced.

But when I looked at the receipt, our second movie was free. Sneaky Jesse! Playing it safe for the security cameras? Or just trying to surprise me?

Thanks!

Gained: A dose of nostalgia, f-r-e-e. (We rented Return to Oz, a freaky 1985 flick La Sorella and I used to obsess over.) And, a priceless morning with team Elemental.

Borrow or share your wifi?

October 23. Day 115.

Not getting internet at home in order to increase productivity and social contact is the second biggest lie I've ever told myself. (The biggest being that those orange plaid pants I bought sophomore year in high school were funky instead of fugly.) (The third biggest, by the way, is the refrain "I won't get a ticket" while parking in Boston.)

In 2003 to 2004, I shared an apartment with an American kleptomaniac and a Belgian postdoc. The postdoc had internet and I didn't. At first I stayed away, but eventually I threw courtesy to the wind and asked if I could use his internet occasionally. Which turned into every day. (I have him rides and cooked and stuff, so it wasn't like I totally abused his generosity. If you're reading this, geule en terre, bleu!)

In 2004 to 2005, I lived in Paris and had a very old laptop with no wifi card, nicknamed "the brick." I ended up mooching off of another friend, which led to hours spent in her bedroom plotting how she could seduce our tango instructor.

Well, my sister and her boyfriend haven't gotten internet yet, since it's been hard to coordinate with the cable company and they're both busy. So I thought I'd ask one of the neighbors if they'd be willing to share their password and split the monthly bill.

La Sorella and I knocked on the door of the apartment across the hall, where we could hear a lively conversation around 11 p.m. A guy about my age opened the door.

"Hi! Hope we didn't wake you up!"

"No, no problem."

I explained that I'm in town for a week, looking to use the internet while I'm here -- just for gmail and reading the news -- and by the way, my sister and her boyfriend are their neighbors and looking to split internet with someone. Was he interested?

He said he'll check with his wife and let us know.

Ten minutes later, he knocked and told us their password, saying a week is cool, but nothing long term. "Liability," he said, apologetically.

No prob. Thanks, neighbor!

Gained: access -- but not access! I entered the password in front of him, and it didn't work. He said he'll check the encryption of his network, double check the password and get back to me. Maybe this can serve as a trial run, and once the neighbors all get to know one another, they won't be averse to sharing.

Are those free? And, JetBlue quest continues...

October 13. Day 105.

I was sitting at Influx, a cafe in the up-and-coming Golden Hill neighborhood, doodling while vaguely listening to a group of women talking as they knit hats. It was time for a break, after a full day of dissertation research.

But instead of relaxing, I was getting more antsy. It was 9, I was about to head home, and I hadn't asked for anything yet. I'd been to dinner (my first visit to the legendary Chicken Pie Shop, which was moderately tasty but nothing to write home about, let alone promote in a blog. Oops). Nothing jumped out at me there to ask for. And before that, I was on my computer all day, thinking about French literature instead of hidden bargains and interesting opportunities.

In a blink, a cashier announced they were closing and I took my cup to the counter.

And there, I spotted them.

Two cookies, two lone chewy looking cookies of the chocolate chip and ginger variety, sitting on a plate on top of the pastry case. They had been inside before (I know this, because I had eyed them earlier but decided to be good). And now they were outside. Waiting. For what?

For me!

"Are those free?" I asked the woman who was tidying up the register area.

I know it was kind of brash. But so many cafes put out baked goods before they close. This was my first time at Influx, and the place was empty, and the cookies did seem to be looking for a loving home...

She smiled.

"Sure."

The way she said it made me wonder if she was sacrificing her midnight snack.

"Are you sure? Were you going to eat them?"

"I'm going to be back here at 6 tomorrow," she reassured me. "We make them every morning."

Gained: 2 giant cookies, aka supper snack and/or breakfast tomorrow.

Earlier today, I wrote to JetBlue again to ask if they got my first message, but I realize I'm going about it the wrong way. An email to the generic "corporate communications" address? Come on. I'm digging around now for human contacts. Anyone in management, anyone with some decision making powers. (If you, kind reader, happen to have such contacts, please don't hesitate to spill the beans!) And then I'll state my case again. If that doesn't work, I'll buy my ticket tomorrow at full price -- but I have to try one more time.

Good night.

Free bacon?

September 17. Day 79.

For dinner I stopped at Z-Square, a restaurant that has seemed new ever since it opened about four years ago.

I ordered a turkey and avocado sandwich.

I asked the cashier to put bacon on the sandwich, instead of the included side salad. (I don't judge you, so please don't judge me. Oh wait, you're not broadcasting your decisions on a blog. Ok, judge away!)

He gave me both, and didn't charge for either.

Gained: $2.50 (cost on the menu of adding bacon to something)

Now, onto something much more interesting.

I found out that Dr. B, a friend from college and grad school who's me hosting this week, negotiated her starting salary by 20 percent.

Outside her teaching and research job in academia, she has been hired as a research contractor. The department offered $25 per hour, and she boosted it to $30.

How??

She did research about what others get paid. She also figured how much she'd be working every week and what the position was worth to her. And, she said, it seemed appropriate to ask for more than they offered. The worst thing was they'd refuse and she'd have the original job offer.

Go B!!!!

Hotel room upgrade?

September 11. Day 73.

After yesterday's victory, I'm totally digging this upgrade idea. I decided to try my luck while checking in at the Claremont Hotel, an intimate old waterfront inn that seems unchanged from the belle epoque postcards in the lobby.

"I was wondering, if by chance you still have any rooms available, would it be possible to get to something nicer?"

"Let me see what we have available."

Promising. He started looking through the book.

"We have -- there would be a difference in price, you realize."

"Oh. But I was wondering, well, I know that hotels might give guests a room with a nicer view, as a courtesy, for example, if there's a room available at check-in."

He was not amused. Who was this chirping chick who wanted something for nothing?

"Not this hotel."

No prob, mate. (Later, in the room, I found a tiny crawling bug and an annoying flying thing, and I was tempted use that ammo to push for a change-- just to give them a taste of what it's like to deal with someone that uptight. But it wasn't worth the effort, time or lost karma points.)

Gained: Nut'n.

Rental car upgrade?

September 10. Day 72.

You're driving up the Maine coastline, about to see one of your closest friends get married. Along Highway 1, there are tons of adorable coastal towns with adorable British names -- Camden, Bath. You stop in Wiscasset for a lobster roll and paw through antique books in one of half a dozen little stores. You cross long, low bridges and crane your neck whenever it's safe, just to get a glimpse of the glistening water dotted with sail boats.

In a Chevy Impala.

Screeech. End of fantasy, right?

However, thanks to this experiment, I asked the Hertz office in Portland for a free upgrade and got... a Mustang!!

I'd heard of people asking about rental car upgrades, but I've never managed to get one. Either I forgot to try, or they were out of stock, or the option wasn't particularly sexy and hence not worth it. But at Hertz I encountered Amy, who told me they have not one but several choices. I stopped her at Mustang.

The bride-to-be, who also happens to be a blogger, offered this pearl today: When you start blogging, your life shapes the blog. Once you're committed, the blog shapes you life.

Thanks for the wise words, radiant P, and so looking forward to tomorrow!!

Gained: One hot car. Thankz, Hertz!

ps: as for my worries about internet and the like? this rustic cabin heated by fireplace and an elementary furnace tucked at the end of a gnarled path on a remote island has wifi. go figure.

Can I try your cheesecake?

August 28. Day 59.

An anecdote: I was relaxing on the terrace of a wine bar yesterday evening, when one of the two older men sitting next to me addressed himself to my person.

"Are you alright? You look angry."

"I'm just pensive," I said, smiling now to make up for my sober expression.

Why? Why did I smile instead of saying, "Actually, my husband died" -- as my dinner companion later told me she wants to say, after getting the very same line countless times. Why didn't I say, "I don't see you smiling." Why do men expect women, especially young women, to be bubbly and sweet all the time? Do they smile softly while walking their dogs, feeling excited about life but too shy and delicate to express these complicated feelings? Do they hum to themselves in line at bank, thinking of the delicious carrot soup they'll make tonight for their loved ones? Anyway.

A word of advice: I came across these tips about salary negotiation in academia, which translates to many other fields. Sensible, and gets right to the point.

And, and asking: I went to The Living Room, a student haunt by SDSU decorated like -- you got it. At the counter, the sacher torte immediately beckoned, with delicate dollops of raspberry jam peeking between layers of chocolate sponge cake, all snuggling under a blanket of ganache. But I started chatting with the cashier about her favorite dessert (the berry cheesecake) and whether she gets to eat for free (only if she's lucky.) Ultimately, the sacher won. One of my core tenets: never say no to raspberries and chocolate.

Between Mr. A and I the torte quickly disappeared, but was I in the mood for something more? I was still thinking about that cheesecake. Could I commit to a whole slice? Should I really indulge in two desserts? Or stay calm, avoid the midnight calories, save a few bucks.

I ended up opting for a compromise: Sample the cheesecake, to get the flavor without the commitment.

"Here's a rather strange question," I asked the cashier. "I'm thinking of getting a slice of cheesecake, but would it be possible to sample a sliver first?"

"It's pre-cut," she said, staring at me as if I were some kind of compulsive cake eater who goes around asking for free samples all the time.

Fair enough. But perhaps prefacing with "strange question" wasn't a good move. After all, I shouldn't bias people against me before I ask. At least let them think I'm crazy after giving me what I want... Note to self.

Gained: Nothing, though sometimes, being told no is a good thing.

Free career guidance?

August 21. Day 52.

For reasons completely unrelated to my graduate studies, yesterday I found myself in the office of two professors at San Diego City College, learning about a book fair they're organizing and the tiny press they run. I'm going to be helping them get the word out about this event, so they were telling me about the authors scheduled to give readings, how many people came last year, that sort of thing.

At the end -- or what seemed like the end at the time -- of our chat, I mentioned that I'm also a grad student, not just a freelance book fair promoter (ok, not my real job, but close enough in this case), and added, "Not that I'm soliciting free career advice, but how do you like teaching here?"

That's how I learned about the differences between community college and four year universities from the perspective of two young literature professors who are clearly making an impact in their institution.

Community college: No research, crazy teaching load (five courses per term), students with interesting life experience (in a class about Che, a student put up his hand and mentioned, "Yeah, I worked with him"), repetitive intro survey classes, but... no departmental politics! They claim they are actually friends with their peers and the college president stops by their house for an occasional beer.

University: Time to research, pressure or freedom to publish, interesting grad seminars and course topics, access to great libraries, but hideous politics. I've never been on the receiving end of an academic's scheme, but from what's been murmured around the hallowed hallways of my own academic institution (hint: East Coast, old, storied), a few professors put the famed frenemiships (not a word, but what's the noun associated with frenemy?) of Lindsay, Nicole, and Paris to shame.

We even ended up trading ideas about what I could do after graduation -- teaching, reporting, going the corporate route.

In all, it was an unexpected and totally refreshing way to spend the afternoon. Not to mention that they're bringing many great authors to San Diego for a week of readings. You guys are awesome!

Gained: Some insights about how I could start spending my days as of June 4, 2009 (Commencement!)

Free car engine diagnosis?

August 20. Day 51.

Today's two askings:

I. I saw a coupon online for a free diagnosis of a "check engine" light. I don't have such a light, but my car has been mysteriously stalling recently. I called to ask if they'd look at it for free, even though it was a more complicated procedure. I added I would be open to fixing it there afterwards, or coming in for future services. The manager agreed, and was nice enough to keep my car all afternoon, run a few tests, drive it around (evidenced by the slightly higher odometer reading and lower gas gauge when I picked it up). The result? They couldn't find anything! The car was perfectly well behaved. I just hope it doesn't stall again tomorrow, when I'm driving my grandma to the doctor.

Gained I: Free exploratory diagnosis, valued around $80 at the other mechanic shops I had asked before finding this coupon.

II. Borders was the only bookstore I found in San Diego with theory books by Walter Benjamin, which I need for the chapter I'm working on. With two of his classics in hand (Illuminations and the second volume of his collected works), I asked the cashier if I could get the online price, which was $2 cheaper. She apologized, but offered this instead: a 20% discount if I was a Border's Rewards member. I happened to be a member, but didn't think to ask for that type of discount -- merely the online price. But asking for the first discount led to the second.

Gained II: $5.

Free massage?

August 4. Day 35.

Okay, okay, okay!

It was a longshot, I know...

It was a cheapshot, I admit...

But I just thought I'd toss it out there, and see how the chips fell.

I didn't have anything to lose, you know?

Fine, fine. Enough throat clearing.

There's a massage school behind Mr. A's apartment, and I keep thinking about booking an appointment. I finally got around to calling today, and thought I might as well see if I could, well, score a massage for half-off or even, for that matter, for free? As a first time customer? As someone in the neighborhood who might come back every month? As someone who's just askin'?

It was almost a relief when the receptionist told me no. It wouldn't have felt very relaxing to accept a free massage. I would have left a tip for the price of the massage, to alleviate my guilt. And he was very sweet. Didn't make me feel like the cheap beggar that I am.

Gained: Niente.

Where's my freebie?

July 29. Day 29.

The earth just rattled, and I sprinted under a door. I checked the Earthquake Map, and sure enough, a 5.4-er rocked Southern California.

And then, reading Marketwatch, I spotted these comments from readers reacting:

• They're dumping subprime foreclosures into the Pacific. --Gbaily
• Blame the short sellers --jhunt
• Nope. BUSH DID IT. --Gbaily

Love it!

Earlier today I called Scottrade to check in about my free trades. I was supposed to get three, for referring La Sorella, but the broker never credited them. And I needed them -- stat -- because I had some trading to do. The associate sorted it out and credited my account, so I jumped into one stock which is completely risky and (if anyone reading this happens to know anything about finance) will betray my own ignorance -- and impetuousness. MBIA (NYSE: MBI), a bond insurer. Not that I know anything about bonds or their insuring.

But here's my rationale, following the research I dutifully did (see yesterday's post for more context). The stock has lost a lot of value in the past months. Analysts are split as to whether it's a good buy or not, but I was sold on the buyers. Ok, sorry, that was bad.

Also bad is that I don't understand how to read a stock's fundamentals -- the balance sheet, various ratios, and whether or not it's a good value. All I can do is filter through other people's musings.

In any case, I only invested a few hundred bucks, so if it tanks, my loss will be minimal. And if it really does grow in the next two to three years, it will have been a morning well spent.

An hour after buying at $4.73, it's up 19 cents , or 4 percent. I'll take that! Yet there's only one thing I know for sure about the stock market: Don't invest anything you wouldn't be utterly comfortable kissing goodbye.

Gained: $21 (Three free trades, at $7 each. Perhaps this is not a "gain," so much as claiming what was promised). Also, if anyone would like a referral with three free trades, just ask!

Free sample of your lemonade?

July 7. Day 7.

darwinbell/flickr

I'm starting to have trouble coming up with material.

I spend most of my days indoors, alone, working on my thesis, and then at night I see either my family or my friends. I don't feel like I lack the courage to express my wants or needs in this context. I am discovering, however, that this commitment to ask for something everyday is forcing me to think about what I could ask for in the first place.

What's on my to-ask list? What could be better in my life? Are there opportunities I didn't notice before? How could someone else help me get there? What could I offer in exchange?

What I discovered I needed today was actually free. But it was hard to ask for it. I went to Starbucks with my aunt, who's in town for a few weeks from Europe. We wanted to get a coffee, and San Diego is tragic when it comes to coffeehouse options. So I took her to Starbucks.

My aunt, who claims she rarely drinks coffee (I say 'claims' because my family is from a country where people drink so much coffee they probably fund half the GDP of Ethiopia; which is not a lot, granted, but then my country happens to be a small country. Basically, you never hear of someone turn down coffee. But if she says so...) noticed the lemonade on their menu and was curious what it's like.

So I asked the cashier for a sample.

This was hard to do, because the cashier was already looking incurably bored as we inspected the menu.

Once I asked, she stared blankly at me.

I rephrased the question more bluntly.

"Could you please make us a smaller version of the lemonade, for free, so we can see what it tastes like?" 

The girl scowled and slithered to the lemonade processing station, and returned with two little cups of icy sweetness.

My aunt ordered a lemonade, and I went for a coffee beverage.

Gained: about $.60 worth of lemonade.

And, a takeaway: Asking is easier when the target is receptive. Sounds obvious, but now I guess the trick is identifying the receptive targets, or making unwilling ones more compliant. (Drums fingers together in a sinister manner.)

Update from Day 3 of asking, the dry cleaning discount: The total was $71, so I saved $7. That's basically a free lunch. Just by asking!?!