Have I Mentioned That I Hate Sales Pitches?

I do. I hate it when people pressure me to buy something I don't want or need, or something that I just can't afford.

For several years I've been using a European-Based desktop publishing program (that I much prefer to Publisher, which came with my MS Office package). The software for this program always starts out at over $100 dollars when a current version is released, but I often end up upgrading just before the one after that is released, and get the soon-to-be second-to-latest release for $10-$20 dollars. It seems financially responsible.

The only thing that annoys me about the software is that each time it is installed on my computer I have to call for a registration code (the program is usable without it, but this annoying REGISTER NOW screen always pops up). Once, a couple of versions ago, I called the company and waited on hold for 45 minutes, at which point the service center closed and I was promptly told to call back another day and disconnected.

This morning I finally gave in and called to register the program that I installed on my new computer in January of 2007! (Thankfully, I was only on hold for a minute.) Now I purchased this version in 2006, which means it was probably released in 2005. The customer service operator told me, "Oh wow. That version. You know that's 6 or 7 years old, don't you? I could hear an upgrade sales pitch coming, so I tried to save him the effort. "It's a few years old," I agreed, "and I've thought about getting another upgrade sometime. But right now, I'm unemployed and don't really have money to spend on upgrading a software that for the most part works very well for me as-is."

Now, their whole registration process is built around getting us to buy other versions. They input my installation code and then they claim it "takes a few minutes to get the registration number" for me to input into my computer. In those "few minutes" the agent asks what I use the program for, and if I've tried any of their other software. I told him I had what I needed in the program I had.

He then began to tell me about the newest version that was released a few weeks ago and how it costs $130 dollars, but he had an upgrade offer for me of $59.95. I again reiterated that I'm unemployed, but I even told him that maybe once my job started up and I was in a better financial place I would reconsider. He told me "this offer is only good for you today!" (Total lie, anytime you call or check their "sale" website, you get that sort of deal.) When I said that a one-time-offer didn't it make me suddenly have $60 bucks I don't have, he left me on hold for a minute and when he came back told me, "I just talked with my supervisor and received permission to discount the sale price even further down to $49.95!"

At this point I was beginning to feel bad for the "suckers" who actually pay full price when the company obviously makes plenty of profit selling their product for WAY less. I was also getting frustrated with his lack of understanding though, and in a desperate attempt to see how low they would go I told him, "I appreciate the offer of that $10 discount, but I really don't have $50 dollars to spend on software right now any more than I have $60 dollars...the most I could spring right now is TEN dollars." At this point, I figured the sales guy was desperate enough for his comission that he just might be able to get it down to $10 bucks. Afterall, that's what I'll pay for it next spring! Unfortunately, he did not take the bait. In fact, after that, my registration number "arrived" VERY quickly and he ended the call very abruptly.

I wish this technique worked at the gas station. I pull up, the attendant comes to my window and asks, "What can I get for you today?" I eye the gas prices and say, "I was going to fill up, but you know, I don't think I can afford to spend this much money on gas right now." He replies, "Well, that's fine! Because today I'll offer you a discounted gas price of just $1.95 per gallon." (Take it, imaginary Kristi, take the deal!) "I'm really sorry," I counter, "but I just don't have $25 dollars now to fill up my tank." (Remember those days when gas cost almost $2 bucks and we thought it was outrageous? When I first started driving, I filled up the Tercel for $10 bucks or so. I actually remember filling up for 97-cents a gallon.) The gas station attendant walks inside the small building, rushes back out grinning and tells me proudly, "My supervisor said I could offer you $1.61 per gallon!" I reply, "I'm sorry, I just don't have more than 32-cents a gallon to pay!" Of course in real life, I would have taken the $1.95 and laughed at the suckers paying $4.25.