Reader asks for -- and gets -- $250 airline voucher

I got this thrilling email yesterday from Priya, a reader and fellow asking adventurer. Let me extract my favorite words in this post from the get go:

...on principle I figured, why the hell not try [asking].

Indeed! But enough from me. You should hear this straight from Priya. Here's her email to me.

Speaking of traveling and planes...

I've been meaning to recount another asking to you. Last Christmas a big snowstorm derailed my flight plans by a few days. I finally made it to the gate in DC when yet another delay meant I would either a) have eight minutes to make a connecting flight or b) be stuck overnight at O'Hare. But United's Best Employee Ever got me a ticket on a direct flight from a neighboring airport. One very expensive cab ride later, I was boarding a plane. In my jubilant state, I hadn't thought to ask Mr. Best Employee for a voucher or coupon toward the cab ride. But once I reached my final destination, I thought, why not? So I wrote United a long, colorful account of my experience, thanking Mr. Best Employee by name, and kindly asking for any sort of compensation.

It worked! They gave me a $250 voucher toward a ticket.

Fast forward to last week. I'm about to buy a ticket with the voucher but want to call my mom to check something quickly. When I click "Continue," the price that I had to pay jumped from $14 to $32. I was miffed, but I was still getting a plane ticket to NYC for the same price as a bus ticket. So I tried to let it go.

But I couldn't. And I thought, can I strike gold twice? I sent another e-mail, beginning and ending with a huge thank you for the voucher. But I also added that I didn't think it was fair that the exact same seat doubled in price over the span of 5 minutes. I recognize that my argument wasn't nearly as compelling as last time's, but on principle I figured, why the hell not try. If I look ungrateful or cheap, so be it. And on the off chance that United did actually give me the money back, well, I'd fly exclusively United.

I did receive an e-mail from United, but all it said was that my itinerary had been updated. I checked. The times were all the same, but unfortunately, so was my credit card statement.

But the whole thing was a revelation. As you know, retail and money askings are the most difficult for me. But this time, I, the consumer, felt jilted.I knew it was a long shot and I'm not surprised that they haven't obliged, especially considering that I had the voucher. But I did what I could. Nevertheless, I wouldn't have minded a response, even if it said, "Well, a large group of middle-schoolers suddenly decided Labor Day was the best time to have a history lesson on Ellis Island, so tickets for that flight were in higher demand, hence the price increase."

What were the magic words in her first letter, you're wondering? I was wondering the same thing, so naturally, I asked her to share. She sent me the first and second emails.

DECEMBER

While I normally stay close to home during the holidays, I decided to travel by air this year to spend time with extended family. I hardly imagined what an adventure I'd have just making it to out there.

I was scheduled to depart on Saturday. The impending blizzard cancelled my Saturday morning flight, and my travel agent rebooked me onto a new flight departing Sunday.

The snow came, and came, and came, and cancelled the Sunday flight as well. After much searching, I found seats on a new flight.

As I sat at t he gate, I noticed that the flight kept getting delayed. When scheduled takeoff jumped from 7:05 to 7:56, I knew something was amiss. This couldn't have been catch-up from the snow delays, for from what I heard, flights had been moving smoothly all day.

After waiting patiently in line for about 30 minutes, I explained my predicament to a gentleman at the counter. It turned my connecting flight was the last flight of the day. Was I really about to become one of those holiday passengers, traveling alone and stranded in an airport in the middle of America, wanting nothing more than to greet my family as I'd planned to do two days earlier?

After some more searching, the representative told me there was a direct flight from a neighboring airport departing at 10:05. My heartbeat quickened. Two questions stood between me and unbridled relief. Were there seats on that plane, and did I have time to make it to the airport? The answer to both questions, thankfully, was a yes. I expressed my utmost gratitude to the representative, snagged my new boarding pass and sped off, my holiday plans salvaged.

I can't even imagine how much work went into fixing all the flight schedules the snowstorm disrupted, and I'd like to commend you for getting through it all. I'd also like to thank once gain the representative (I believe his name was Best Employee) for making it possible for me to spend Monday night with my family instead of a cold hotel room or vast airport terminal.

However, I didn't expect to have to take an $80 cab ride from airport to airport to do so. Although I'm grateful that everything worked out, I lost two days with my family because of all the cancellations.

I would like to request compensation for the $80 cab ride. I do understand that the snowstorm was out of anyone's control, but I had specifically planned my trip based on access to public transportation From Saturday to Monday, I had been scheduled on about seven different flights. I don't know what caused such delays on Monday's flight, but given the circumstances, going to the other airport was really the only way to salvage my situation.

I do hope you consider my request for remuneration. Please feel free to e-mail me or call my cell. Thank you very much and happy holidays!

Her second email:

JULY

Last December I received a courtesy voucher in response to travel delays incurred due to the December 2009 snowstorm. First, I want to thank you very much for giving me this travel voucher. I greatly appreciate it. This evening I redeemed it for a round-trip ticket. The original price I clicked on, around 8:30 pm, was $14.40 after the voucher was applied, but when I clicked continue, the site said that price modifications had bumped the price up to $32.40. I know that calculating flight fares is a complicated process, but I don't understand how in just a few minutes, the price more than doubled for the exact same ticket. I completely understand that, factoring in the voucher, the amount I paid was far less than the original price. However, I don't think it's fair that something that was valued at $14.40 suddenly went up to $32.40 in such a short amount of time. Would it be at all possible to adjust this ticket back to the price at which it was originally listed? Once again, I truly do appreciate your help and am grateful for anything you can do. Feel free to e-mail me or call me.

Priya's post-game analysis, included in her email to me:

I milked the first situation for all its worth -- crippling snowstorm, holiday spirit and the lonely girl who just wants to reach her family. It was a compelling story and I kept the tone light. The second one was less narrative and more straightforward. Maybe plain old unfairness isn't reason enough for them to give me the refund. Do you think it conveys a sense of entitlement? Is it too demanding? Do I come off sounding whiny? Like I'm throwing an e-mail tantrum? Did the fact that I had a voucher and still paid hundreds less than the actual price negate any right I had to complain?

I'd be interested to hear your/readers' thoughts...

My take?

Priya, you did great!!!! You identified an opportunity where it was far from obvious. You crafted a compelling letter. You persisted. You thanked people for being kind and rewarded their generosity by privately and publicly lauding them (in your letter and in your email to me, which is now a blog post).

As for the second letter -- it does come across as demanding, or more curt and businesslike, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. You did thank them and acknowledge how awesome their first response was. Here's what I like most about it: you took the risk. You tried. So what if it didn't work. You felt you were owed an explanation (at least that, if not the price difference as well) and you decided that your feeling is worth something: action. That's tremendously courageous. Over time you can work on figuring out what style to use for every situation and if there are ways to ask that don't leave you feeling insecure about your approach. But above all, it's fantastic you asked, not once but twice. It's great you felt your needs weren't being met. It's great you tried to resolve that.

I can't wait to read your next asking adventure. Thanks so much for sharing this story.

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Introducing new label: non-non-negotiable

Thanks to those who shared their fears about asking last week. If you have more, please keep adding your insights as comments to the original post, since my aim is to come up, eventually, with a list of tools, methods and counter-reasons to match each of those reasons for not asking.

Here I want to highlight the most recent comment on that post, where Martha puts her salary negotiation into perspective.

"When I got hired, I was met with a wall of non-negotiation. I am nagged with "what-ifs" about that conversation and I think I could be getting paid a lot better but I just don't have the tools to address a "non-negotiable" stance. It came down to the fact that there is a down economy and a lower paying job is better than no job."

Being up against a wall is the scariest place to be.

This is something I am hoping to work on, both for myself as a freelance/contract worker trying to eke out a living while dealing with clients on budgets, and especially for anyone facing full-time job negotiation in a down economy. Are there other things we can gain besides money? Is there a way to find out what a department's or client's bottom line truly is? Are there ways to approach the negotiation so that, even if we don't emerge with boosted earnings at the end of that conversation, the foundation is in place for a smoother renegotiation in 6 months? And more importantly, are there ways to emerge that very first negotiation by blasting (or coaxing, or persuading, or strategizing, or arguing, or asking, or selling, or requesting) our way through the impasse?

This is a question I've been focusing on in the She Negotiates seminar -- which, by the way, I'll have some more reports about in the near future.

So let it be known: any resources I develop or come across about overcoming negotiation roadblocks and impasses will go under a new blog post: Non-non-negotiable.

I hope we can learn from one another!

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Jungle bound

Saturday ayem, I'm taking off to Ecuador!! I'll be there for 10 days, for work/research and, of course, fun! I'm meeting Mojojo and a team of sustainability experts there, and from Quito we're heading down to the jungle.

Which is why:

a) I've been posting rarely. Because I need to get a ton of things done before I leave.
b) I'll be posting rarely, since internet access will be hard to come by.

Meanwhile, here's a blast of asks from recent days.

Two days ago I went to Best Buy to get a camera for the trip. I decided on the Canon G11, since I need a top notch point and shoot for this trip and future projects of this nature.

On my way to the checkout counter, I googled the camera and my zipcode and saw the online price at the same merchant is $449.99.

Easiest ask ever.

"Can you match your online price?"

"Best Buy's online price? Sure!" the cashier said.

Then, as she started to manually override the price, I thought I'd try one more time.

"Actually, could you do $435? It's a work expense, but I'm paying for it out of pocket." (This wasn't totally out of left field - the cashier brought the camera from the locked cabinet and we chatted about what I need it for.)

She said no.

Oh well. Worth a shot.

And still shaved $50 off the sticker price.

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4 more reasons we don't ask (or what a British hunting lodge taught me about taking my fear and stuffing it)

These evening I found myself at the Red Fox Room, drinking a chocolate martini.

The Red Fox Room is a dive pianobar not far from my house which looks like a cross between an English hunting lodge and an English hunting lodge. On its wood paneled walls hang cheap portraits of noble hounds. The drinks are short and mighty, like HRH. From the front of the bar, a trio pumps golden age jazz standards and the occasional showtune. The vinyl booths clash, quite brilliantly, with the rest of the room.

The story goes that a British lady used to frequent the hotel next door, and she so loved a certain hunting lodge back home that when she settled in San Diego she had it transported, panel by panel, to its present location.

For all these reasons, and for the $6.50 martinis, it's one of my favorite haunts here.

Tonight, however, a problem surfaced.

I was sitting at a booth, half-facing the TV over the bar, and from the corner of my eye I spotted something gross.

Something I really hate looking at (but others, apparently, could care less about).

Something small and organic and icky.

Bugs.

Thousands of bugs in a boxes being handled by scientists.

(Ewwww again. Flashback!)

I turned away, revolted. But the bright TV screen dominated the dim room, and I couldn't help but see the occasional glimpse every time I moved my head a few degrees or talked to the waitress.

I waited a bit, to see if the program would change. Nothing.

I put my hand up to my face, to shield the view.

But that got tiring.

Finally I got up and asked the bartender if she could change the channel since it was grossing me out. She did and apologized.

I sat down. And then I wondered what took me so long.

Here's why it took me so long.

Sometimes, we don't ask because we hope others will solve the problem for us or the problem will solve itself. "My boss will recognize how much I worked last quarter and let me take off the Friday before Labor Day. I've mentioned I want to go camping twice, already." "I'm not going to ask the landlady to fix the gutter problem since they usually blow away by the winter." "I don't need to ask Melissa to stop for food... they'll all get hungry soon and then we'll stop when everyone wants to eat." "They'll offer to pitch in... they'll offer to pitch in... why didn't they offer to pitch in?"

Counterargument: What if everyone else is waiting for the same thing? Break the ice, broach the subject. You might become some else's hero. The only thing you must never ask in a fake-real British hunting lodge: "Is it just me, or is it hot in here?"]

Sometimes, we don't ask because we don't know our place. What you ask for, who you ask and how you ask for it reveals a lot about how you fit into a group, a context, a situation. In some places, novices do the asking, and in others it's the initiates. Breaking the pattern requires staking a claim on a territory. And that can be scary. In that bar, I wasn't sure who controls the TV and if other people were watching the show.

Counterargument: True, knowing the rules and playing by them can be the right approach. Asking the CEO of a company you're pitching, "So, can I sit down yet?" might not be the best way to start your meeting. But if everyone played by the rules or assumed they shouldn't ask, we'd have no women's suffrage and the wage gap would keep growing. Lo and behold. So: Evaluate first. Weigh benefits and drawbacks. Then ask.

Sometimes, we don't ask because that requires recognizing -- and publicizing -- a weakness in ourselves. In my case tonight, disgust. In other cases: needing money, wanting access somewhere, wanting something someone else has. Remember the kid in kindergarten who asked for the doll? She wasn't the popular one. The popular one was the girl holding the doll. "I'm can't ask mom for help on the rent. I'm a grown-up now." "I can't invite myself along! They'll say something if they want me there." "I need a good therapist, but who can I trust to get a referral from? Whatever, I'll just look online."

Counterargument: You might find others with the same vulnerability -- either in the present or, just as valuable, in the past. (And that popular girl who was holding the doll? Guess where she ended up: at your company, earning 72% of what you do because she never learned to ask.)

And sometimes, we don't ask because we hold ourselves to a higher standard than we hold others. We're strong, we're critical, we downplay our needs. "Minding bugs? I should just get over it." "Of course I want her to call if he's going to be twenty minutes late, but I can't be the bitchy friend." "It would be such a relief if he started taking the kids to preschool, but he's home looking for work and I should suck up the detour. Scratch that." "God I wish she would stop taking my sweater without asking permission. But whatever, I should just chill out."

Counterargument: If we were asked to change the channel, remember to call when we're running late, drive the kids to school or not borrow without permission, we'd rush to accommodate. Maybe eagerly, maybe guiltily, but we'd do it -- and possibly blame ourselves, not the asker. Never assume your request is uncalled for: deduce it is. (Alternately, let the askee settle any doubts you have about the legitimacy of your request with a yes or no.)

And let me tell you: the payoff of getting what you need or want is so great, it far outweighs these anxieties. So how about this: Before you walk away from a situation that needs fixing, ask yourself:

Am I passively hoping for a solution?

Am I confused about whether or not it's ok to ask in this setting?

Am I feeling embarrassed about this need or desire?

Would I mind if someone asked me something similar?

These answers should shape your strategy -- and hopefully give you the guts to go for it!

Sheesh. Who would have thought that a post about a 2 second request to change a TV channel would turn into all this?? But what can I say: I have strong feelings about bugs. And asking. Hey, maybe that's a topic for my next blog: The Daily Bug Evader. Any interested readers out there?

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My name is La Roxy, and I am scared to negotiate

I just finished the first session of the 4-week long She Negotiates seminar.

It was a total, how you say, mindfooque. Those 90 minutes have taught me as much as I've learned in months of asking.

My classmates were a mix of experienced and fresh negotiators from a variety of fields, and a mix of salaried employees and entrepreneurs. We learned some negotiation and conflict resolution theory, but the most rewarding aspect in this first session was the role-playing.

They paired us off, and the assignment was simple: Pretend you're negotiating a salary/raise or offering a service for a fee. If you're being asked, your job is to say no. If you're asking, your job is to get the other side to say yes. Then switch sides with your partner.

Easy enough.

They paired us off, rang the start bell and...

I froze.

I have asked for something everyday for a year. I asked an employer to restore a fired woman's job. I have asked a stranger if I could try on his cartoon costume head. I've negotiated a lower rent, better hotel rates, discounted catering. But when it came to this informal salary chat with abstract results in a fake conference room, I couldn't find the words to save my life.

"Hi, um, please turn to page 13 of the proposal where you'll see the proposal, I mean the quote, I came up with, which is a great value for your company... gag. Cough!"

Fortunately, I was paired with a savvy and persuasive partner, and when it was her turn to ask for a fee for her company's services, I was able to see how it's done right.

What I discovered:

1. Mental and emotional preparation are essential. I wasn't mentally prepared to negotiate something that moment, for whatever reason, and I had no idea what or how to pitch my service and fee. Sure, the assignment was impromptu and I'd normally be more prepared, but it's useful to remember what a poor mental or emotional state does to your negotiation: utter devastation.

2. Factual preparation is just as essential. What does the other side want? What do you have to offer? Bring all that to the table.

3. Pitching is a part of negotiating. Rather than just stating, "Hi, I'd like $200 for this service," I could have incanted, "This package includes A, B, C, D -- and A and B in particular are proven to help clients do Y and Z. Our competitors charge $250 and $300, so by choosing our $200 subscription you're getting the best deal out there." Sure, we had 3 minutes (i.e. barely enough time to say hello, let alone make a deal) -- but my partner built in a pitch long before she talked about price. She was persuasive, and she spent a chunk of time describing the benefits her services would bring my company. I was ready to hire her.

4. It's a lot easier the second time. We paired up again at the end of the course, after learning about some strategies, and that time I was prepared, I had a plan, and just as importantly perhaps, I had established a rapport with the other party. All that translated into more confidence and better communication skills.

5. Considering points 3 and 4, it makes a lot of sense to practice! Negotiate when it matters and negotiate when it doesn't.

6. You're never too experienced to keep learning. My partner introduced herself as a CEO. A CEO is taking a negotiation seminar with moi??!! She is already clearly a pro. Yet she knows there are areas she should strengthen. (My guess: that's exactly why she's a good negotiator: she never stops reaching.)

Though I started this post on a down note, I do have some good news to report: today I landed a client I really wanted. I asked for a certain compensation level and the client agreed without blinking an eye.

Pro: Charging the amount I did would have been unthinkable before I started this business six-months ago. Enough successes and enough failures at the rate negotiation table have finally paid off. I was confident when I priced the services and confident in our meeting. Double score.

Con: Given the quick assent, maybe I should have asked for more? After this course is over and I land future clients, I certainly shall.

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Repairs before we renew the lease?

This morning, I had a meeting with the property manager. Our goal: negotiate the lease renewal.

Before our meeting, he told me it would involve a quick walk through of the property and then signing the lease extension. We are staying at the same rent, because our landlord is a godsend. I mean it. He rocks.

Until last night, that's what I was planning for: a quick tour of the property and then signing some papers. But then, just before bed, I realized: Lease renewal? That's the moment to ask for repairs!

I made a list of problems and printed it out. It included things like a slightly leaky faucet, some chipped paint, etc. Nothing structural or crucial, but still, things that have been on my mind.

I gave him the list, saying "These are not complaints. We love it here. But if you can fix them, it would be even better."

He said that of course he'd fix everything, with one exception.

Then, as we walked around, I remembered two things I'd been wishing for since we moved in.

1) Get a pair of street facing windows to open. (House build in 1930 = lovely old quirks. Like two windows that are sealed shut. When we moved in he told us that was that, but now that we're staying another year, why not try again?)

2) Fix a different window. (Mechanical problem I forgot to put on the list.)

As he left, he informed me that Maintenance Magic will call me to set up an appointment.

And to think that I almost missed this opportunity. D'oh!! And... Phew.

(PS: If you ever read this, dear landlord, thanks for being amazing. Please know that we love your house, we're taking good care of it and we're so happy to be staying another year!! Hope you're having a blast out there.)

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52 reasons people don't ask

I had a conversation this weekend with an enlightened negotiator -- Vickie Pynchon, one of the teachers of the seminar I enrolled in which starts tomorrow. For some mystical reason our paths crossed a few months ago, and I've been grateful ever since.

By chance, she showed up in San Diego and we had a fantastic conversation over lunch.

She told me that in the seminar, she asks women to share the reason why they haven't negotiated a higher salary. Two of the myriad justifications she's heard: not having the right credentials and not being experienced enough. "Every woman has a different reason for why she's not worth more," she told me.

I thought about this long and hard over the past 24 hours, and I considered all the times over the years I've been reluctant to ask for more money during salary or rate negotiations. Thanks to this project, since 2008 I've gotten over that fear every time, but the derisive demon called Doubt still follows me to this day.

I also remembered the reasons people of both genders have given me, over the years, when I suggested they ask for a raise or negotiate hard during the job offer period.

As a result, I give you:

52 Reasons People Don't Ask

I'm not experienced enough

I'm experienced overall, but new at this industry/type of project/firm/market

I don't have the credentials

I have credentials, but they're not in this field

This isn't my niche/specialty

I'm too young

I'm too old

I really love this project/client/line of work

I like being generous and giving discounts

I'm not worth that much, who are we kidding

This job isn't really that hard

It's a down economy

It's a competitive industry

I don't know what to charge

I don't know I don't know what to charge

Salary never came up in the hiring conversation

The salary is advertised as $13, so why would I ask? Clearly that's what they can afford to pay

The HR manager who interviewed me said it's nonnegotiable

They told me take it or leave it

It's humiliating to ask

I have no practice

I have no one to practice with

Asking for too much money (or asking to pay too little in a purchase transaction) will compromise the deal

Asking is greedy

Asking is needy

Asking is selfish

The other party told me they can't afford more than X

The other party looks like they're on a budget

The other party is spending so much on rent, salaries, bills, they can't afford my services too

The other party is doing a public service, so asking for more is exploitation

The other party will pay me more later

I need to prove myself before asking for a better salary

Doing this type of work is good for my portfolio

Doing this type of work really helps people, so money is beside the point

I don't really 'need' this particular income if I have other cash coming in

It's just $3 an hour/$100 a month extra

I don't want to start off on the wrong foot

They're giving me a flexible start date/free parking, so I don't want to seem ungrateful

Vanessa/My sister/my coworker didn't ask and she's doing the same job

I saw the other bids and they're all lower

I really need this gig. No matter what

I wanted to ask but then I got too nervous

Asking for a raise will be easier

Next time

Whitney Johnson: "Fear."

IGC: "Afraid of getting fired for asking."

IGC: "Scared of my boss."

IGC: "I'm not really doing such great work."

ICG: "Company has a salary freeze."

Martha: I'm scared of more responsibility"

Martha: "I'm scared they will let me go next because they will see me as not committed and/or assume I am looking for a new job with more pay"

Priya: "Your boss asked for their own raise and was refused"

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Actually, those are 44 reasons. Can you help me come up with 8 more? Because, I dunno, 52 is a cool number. And especially because I want to tap into your wisdom! I'll add all contributions into the body of the post. Thanks to Whitney for being the first to speak up -- about fear. That's courageous! :)

Let's see what else we can come up with!?

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(PS: a subsequent collaborative post will be 52 responses to each of these flimsy reasons. Since this blog is about solutions, not whimpering. Yeehaw!)

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