CHAPTER 1
I Have Negotiaphobia?!
Two Tickets for Paradise
The sign in Terminal H of Miami International Airport proclaimed, “Welcome to Miami.” As Jay Baxter read this message and then looked for the arrow directing him to baggage claim, he doubted that he had ever felt more welcome anytime and anyplace in his life. He and his wife, Laura, had won a spot on the Top Producers Award Trip his company held annually for all salespeople who exceeded their sales quota by more than 10 percent during the prior year.
That company, XL Information Solutions, had considered canceling the trip this year in an effort to reduce costs. The organization’s president stepped in at the last minute and saved the event with the idea of making it not only a reward but also a relevant educational experience. The president’s memo mentioned getting a return on the investment, but everyone knew changes in tax laws restricting a company’s ability to write off such excursions played a major role in the repositioning. Jay was glad the possibility of a cancellation had never leaked to his wife, Laura. She had been counting on this trip for six months, and it was the one legitimate explanation he could give her for all those late dinners and missed family events he had delivered to those he loved so much over the past year.
When they left Cleveland, it had been snowing and a chilling 21 degrees. Upon landing, the pilot told them it was 78 in Miami, and the passengers did not need to be told they were finally in “The Sunshine State.” This was to be a glorious trip for the two of them. Laura’s parents had come in from Chicago to watch their two teenagers, so they were on the verge of a trip without a care.
Not only had Jay qualified for this event, but his revenue total was the highest percentage over quota of all seventeen people who had earned the cruise. Many of his colleagues had e-mailed him indicating they felt he had a lock on the coveted “Salesperson of the Year” award. He already had a place of honor picked out to display the golden statue award, as well as the talking points for his acceptance speech.
Laura had heard the award was a possibility from several of the spouses, and on the flight down she mentioned using the additional bonus money as a down payment on a new home. He had put her off on this major change for some time, but as their negotiations continued, he was beginning to run out of excuses. One additional possibility Laura had not heard about—and Jay did nothing to get her hopes up on the issue—was that Jay would also be getting a promotion to the now-vacant regional sales manager position for the Upper Midwest. This accomplishment would not only make a higher monthly mortgage payment feasible but would also fulfill his career-long dream. He had coveted this position for years, and since the present manager announced his retirement several weeks ago, he had even found opportunities to sneak into this office space to have a look around.
“Laura, do you think I have a fear of negotiating?” Jay asked his wife as they walked through the terminal. She responded with her own question: “Why do you ask, dear?” He justified his question by informing her of the focus of the workshop that would be consuming much of his time on this trip. “This Dr. Pat guy’s seminar program is called ‘Treating Your Negotiaphobia.’ In the description, he claims that even the most senior business professionals suffer from a disease that has its roots in the fear of negotiating, both in the workplace and in our personal life: negotiaphobia. I don’t have that fear, do I?” Laura couldn’t resist the opportunity to take a free shot or two at teasing her husband. “Well, Jay, you have plumbingphobia, as the faucet in the upstairs bathroom still drips. You have gardeningphobia given the weeds that are still in the flower beds from last summer. Given those fears, you may have negotiaphobia as well.” Jay smirked and said, “Thanks, lover. Glad to always have your unconditional support.”
When they reached baggage claim, their luggage was three of the first ten bags on the belt. Jay disliked checking luggage, but this time it worked like a charm. Ten minutes later, they were in the shuttle headed down I-95 to the Port of Miami. Departing the van at the pier, he tipped the shuttle driver, who when questioned repeatedly assured both of them that these bags would be in their stateroom in plenty of time to dress for dinner. “We have a simple process in place that works thousands of times each day,” the driver confidently stated. They would just need to check in, set up credit for their incidental expenses, provide their passports, get on board, and start having fun.
The moment they stepped onto that massive ship they were engulfed in an atmosphere of festivity. Signing the $22 check for their welcome beverages, Jay instantly realized it would not take long to spend the $400 ship credit his company provided each couple on this three-night/four-day cruise to the Bahamas and then down to Key West. “Oh, well,” he said to Laura, “this is not a time to worry about money; this is a time to celebrate, have fun, live graciously, and look toward what will most certainly be the future we have both worked so hard to achieve.”