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.
