| Related but not quite on topic: I like to be approached on the street by folk who try to sell subscriptions and the like. Two reasons: 1) because the ritual is entertaining. 2) I want to get their free stuff.
This time, it was a fellow with the company colours of NRC Next. A newspaper. I was on my way to pick up some groceries. Right before the door of the supermarket, he was scanning the shopping audience for victims. Thus was the stage. I saw him but didn't lock on immediately. Didn't want to seem too eager for his free newspaper. But he did see me. And the game was on.
He approached. It started casual. A tentative 'hey'. A social relic. A question followed: If I knew NRC Next. I answered truthfully: Yes, I know it. The tension built. Should I have been this open to him, right from the start? Was it the right answer? The answer, it turned out, didn't seem to matter. He had an offer. And while he went into the next phase of his strategy, he handed over the coveted prize. The newspaper was now in my hands. I needed to wrap this up in a civilized manner. Then I would have won. He, unknowing that I was not going to subscribe no matter how good the offer, had already lost.
While I was ogling the front page of my prize, lusting for all its free content inside, he amicably put his hand on my shoulder. It lasted about a half a second, but I had never experienced such directness. A tactic that was piercing. Brutal. This man would use all his manipulative power on me, that much was clear. My victory all of a sudden seemed less likely and my heart sank. With this kind of savage dedication, perhaps the unthinkable happens: I might cave and buy his subscription. Would this be my downfall, had I been too careless and arrogant?
Indeed, the offer was pretty good. 2 Euros per month for 6 months, to try out NRC Next, every weekday. And the NRC Handelsblad in the weekend. Tempting. But hold on, the weekend is two days. I knew that most papers didn't do Sundays. This was a trick! So I asked him if he was talking about 1 NRC Handelsblad, in the weekend. Turned out my eager instincts were right. It was. The offer already was 1/7th less impressive. But I still had 6/7th of his offer left to leave.
He mentioned the normal yearly and monthly tariffs. I wasn't paying attention, just searching for a way out. This was a race against time, and I couldn't be bothered with petty facts. Some students, who happened to be passing as he explained the prices, did. And one of them boldly remarked that it was a very high price for a newspaper. They kept on walking. The newspaper guy was only very briefly distracted by their interjection. He regained control with a brief and solid: "No. It is not." Parried graciously, paper guy. But you haven't won me over, just yet. I can still get away, I think.
I asked him if the offer was also available on the internet. A seemingly innocent question: perhaps I wanted to read the conditions at my own leisure and decide after some pondering and weighing. But of course, it was all but innocent, for he would not get his commission if I did it like that. The answer was expectable: It was a street promotion only. My attempt failed. But it did no harm. I decided to be more daring: "Can I keep this newspaper?" This was by no account innocent. My intentions were showing. A weakness. I was treading on extremely treacherous ground. I had managed to keep my tone level and avoid detection, I think. He affirmed that I could keep it. But if he had called me on my true intentions, it would have revealed me as not much more moral than a mere thief.
My brutality forced his hand at this point, and he went into the last phase of his charge. The time of innocence was well over. Everything we did and said now had consequences. He reaffirmed his boundless determination once again, by brushing me on the upper arm: a second physical contact. It wasn't a grab, nor a stroke. It was almost nothing. But it was enough to send deep shivers along my spine. His question eased its way to my ear. Did I want to subscribe to NRC Next, using his extremely attractive trial period offer?
I had used up his time, took a paper off him, and was about to give him nothing. But that is how this game sometimes works, and we both knew it. Yet this was the most difficult part of it. I threw my reservations over board and said: "No. Thank you. I'm not interested" Resolutely. Victory was mine! I walked away, the newspaper firmly clutched in my right hand. But then, from behind me, not showing disappointment, but that insistence that I had come to fear over the last 2-3 minutes: "Why not?"
Damnit! I had let joy and happiness cloud my alertness just a second too early. What the hell was I to say? Confess that I just played his game to get a free newspaper for my own amusement? It may have been the right thing to do, but I had already claimed victory in my mind and this wasn't going to happen. I turned my head, and heard myself reply, like a lying coward: "No reason".
I quickly vanished into the supermarket and comforted myself that it wasn't too bad and I had the €1.30 newspaper in my possession. It was a victory, but it had turned into a pyrrhic one in those very last seconds of our battle, through my own pride, my own fault. When I dared to leave the supermarket again, some 5 minutes later, he was no longer there. Nor anywhere in this street and the next one. I felt relieved, but still walked home a little quicker than usual, just to be sure. I still haven't opened my prize newspaper to this moment...
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I'm still puzzled by it.
