Last year I entered the exciting world of hi-fi music. After spending the majority of my life with cheap, mass-produced electronics from corporate retail chains, I decided to spend way too much money on some high-performance British gear. I traveled to a boutique audio shop in Austin for my purchase. Having shopped around for the greater part of three months, I knew exactly what I wanted. My purchase was informed by hours of listening, not by sales pitches. Nonetheless, when I made my purchase, I became a life-long customer of Darin, the salesperson who conducted my transaction. Even though Darin did nothing to assist me in my purchase, he will earn commission on all of my future purchases. I will always be his customer. The rationale behind this policy is that returning customers are loyal to the store only because they were initially satisfied with the service they received. Such was not the case with me. I knew exactly what I wanted to buy, but Darin kept trying to push me to spend more money. It turned me off.
Despite my first experience, I continue to patron the store, as I like the brands they sell. And occasionally, I will bump into Darin. Those encounters are never satisfying, as he always tries to get me into something that would never yield sufficient sonic rewards for my system. I feel that he’s misleading me in order to pat his own pocket. On the other hand, I often spend time with Roger, a very passionate and helpful sales associate. He loves music and seems very honest. In fact, on several occasion, he has talked me out of expensive upgrades and offered less expensive alternatives to achieving my goals. What’s more, I feel very comfortable talking to him about my system, and he always encourages me to just come in and listen. I can easily audition potential upgrades without ever feeling burdensome. And he’s knows that my purchases ultimately belong to Darin.
Given my preference for dealing with Roger, I find myself trying to avoid Darin at all costs. Yesterday, for example, I wanted to set up an appointment with Roger, so that I might audition a specific component. I called the store and left a message with the receptionist, as Roger was busy with a customer. I got a call back two hours later. But not from Roger! The person on the other end of the line identified himself as Darin. He said, “I see that you left a message for Roger, but we went back through some old invoices and saw that I had helped you in the past.” He then inquired into the purpose of my call. I found myself uncomfortably discussing with him my plans for a potential upgrade. And as usual, he began to suggest a more expensive alternative that would not achieve my goals. He then tried to nail me down to an appointment. I hesitated and said that I was very busy. “I’ll drop in when I have some free time,” I tell him. I don’t know that I will.
What has encouraged this passive-aggressive behavior of mine? Although I consider myself a pretty ethical and moral dude, I find myself being dishonest here. I know that I’m Darin’s customer, but rather than confront him about my dissatisfaction with our relationship, I sneak around behind his back. Why can’t I just tell him that I feel more comfortable working with Roger? David Riesman, an important twentieth-century sociological theorist, would likely say that my actions are indicative of the other-directed social character of modern culture. Rather than allow my action to be guided by a moral gyroscope, I allow them to be guided by anxieties about how others will perceive me. Morality is thus replaced by peer acceptance. I suppose this touches the heart of the issue here. I would rather be sneaky and dishonest than potentially hurt Darin’s feelings. But why am I compelled to consider his feelings when he certainly doesn’t have my best interests in mind when making upgrade recommendations. Maybe deep down inside I do want him to like me. Or perhaps I’m just trying to avoid potential confrontations or any sort of awkwardness during my future visits to the store.
On the other hand, Darin’s decision to return my phone call was itself an act of passive-aggression. He knew that I didn’t leave a message for him, yet he returned my call as if there were no obvious tension. What is interesting to me is that Darin completely ignored the rhetorical situation of my initial phone call. Obviously, I know that I am his customer, yet I did not leave a message for him. Why, then, would he call me back? Why not read the signs and recognize that I do not want to work with him? Why not acknowledge that a sale might be more likely through Roger? Yet he confronts my infidelity and once again stakes his claim for me in a manner that is both hostile and genial.
Despite the tensions that exist between Darin and me, I suppose we are better off masking them behind a façade of politeness. After all, we do live in a civil society. But then again, do we somehow destroy our potential for leading meaningful lives and building healthy societies when we form and maintain inauthentic relationships? I don’t know. So I guess I’ll just keep doing things the way I always have. Accordingly, I’ve changed the names of everyone mentioned in this post. I don’t want this to get back to Darin. That might be awkward.
3 comments:
Oxymoron, we discussed this yesterday, and I'm glad to see you posting the situation here for all our readers to ponder. I suspect that most if not all of them deal with the same rhetorical dilemmas regularly. I know I do.
One thing I notice from your post is that you downplay Roger's own complicity in the masking of intentions. Every bit as much as Darin, Roger too found himself confronted by a highly charged rhetorical situation when news of that phone call came through. Would it not have behooved his soul to have taken Darin aside and said, "look, Oxymoron and I have developed a pretty good rapport, which is what we here at the store are all after (because it leads to profit)? You've done a great job getting sales out of him thus far, but this phone call signifies that from here on out he would be a happier customer dealing with me."
There can be no doubt that all three of you would be made better men if one of you would break through this very awkward rhetorical situation and create a broader, healthier one in its stead. But who, if anyone, will make the first move? Some would perhaps suggest that the onus is on you because of your awareness of this as a Rhetorical Situation--to paraphrase Peter Parker's uncle, with such awareness comes great responsibility.
I am headed to Austin right now. I have to pick up Mrs. Oxymoron's anniversary band from the jeweler. While I was going to avoid the audio store, I am now inclined to reconsider. Your points are well received, Harrogate. Given my own awareness of the rhetorical situation in which all three of us find ourselves, perhaps I can make the first move towards building a healthier relationship. I must admit, though, I am nervous. Stepping outside the bounds of established social norms is no small endeavor. I will let you know how this plays out.
I just return from Austin, where I did visit the audio store. It was a rather anticlimactic. I met with Darin. And immediately we began to resolve our tensions. He began by saying that he had conferred with Roger about how to best acheive the sonic improvements that I'm seeking through an upgrade. I responded by telling him why I had asked for Roger when I called: I had spoken with both salesmen on different occasions and felt that Roger's audio philosophy (i.e., source first) were more readily aligned with my own. That was more or less the resolution we both needed, I suppose. Darin never conceded his belief that speakers are the most important component in the signal chain, but he was more willing to help me find what I was looking for. The fact that he took the time to consult with Roger was an important step in overcoming our passive-aggression towards one another, as was my decision to give Darin another opportunity to assist me. I spent some time in the store listening to a few reference tracks (which only solidified my assumptions about he importance of building a good front-end), and then I left. Ultimately, the solution I was seeking went unfulfilled. Nonetheless, I believe my visit was a productive one, insofar as it solidified my plan for updating my system and authenticated mine and Darin's relationship. I now feel comfortable asking for him when I call or drop in.
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