Back in January, as part of our subscription series for the Ottawa Little Theatre, we went to see “An Inspector Calls”, written by J.B. Priestly. I didn’t get around to reviewing it at the time, partly as it didn’t contribute to my “#50by50” series since I’d already counted a play for that, but I kept the playbill lingering around my desk. The play was first performed back in 1946, and set just prior to the First World War.
Much of the play revolves around noblesse oblige of the wealthy and the fate of the working class, and the gap between the two. The cast is made up generally of a family of five people plus an inspector who calls on them while conducting an enquiry into the death of a young woman by the name of Eva Smith. She appears in shadows as a ghost, but has no lines.
It’s near impossible to review the play without spoilers, and so I won’t try. Essentially, as the night unfolds and the family members individually answer the Inspector’s questions, it moves through Eva’s life (although she was known by different names). All of the events were interconnected by happenstance, not design, and no one was aware of it all, even the girl herself. Over the course of the interrogation, you realize the man of the house, a businessman, used to employ her; the daughter ran into her in a shop; the fiancé of the daughter and the son both interacted with her romantically; and the wife/mother met her through charitable work. In essence, they all treated her badly, partly because they could, and when the girl had nothing left, she committed suicide.
While the plot sounds fantastical, it is the Inspector who sells the story. He is imperious when dealing with them all, insisting on treating them as potential criminals to be interrogated, not aristocrats to be handled nicely. The daughter has lots of angst-filled scenes where she debates the role of women, their collective conscience as a society, the plight of the working class, the out-of-touch nature of her parents, the shame of her fiancé having cheated on her. And ultimately her own guilt. Each member of the family initially denies any responsibility, until in the end, the Inspector verbally leads them to indict themselves. It was very well done.
Then there is a twist, where for a short time, all the guilt appears for nought. They are returning to their regular lives and views of the world, until they get one last shock at the end of the night that’s a bit spooky for them. Twilight Zone almost.
The father, Arthur Birling, was played by Roy Van Hooydonk, and he affected an old English-gentlemen-style of pontification that was mildly endearing and easy to watch, although a trifle slow in the delivery. His wife, Sheila, was played by Katherine Williams and the character was difficult to watch. It was hard to tell if it was the actress or the character, but they were both heavily repressed, and there was little emotional resonance in the performance. There was an okay performance for the fiancé Gerald Croft (played by Guy Newsham), with a bit of a sheepish “boys will be boys” vibe, if only the women would understand. He did a decent job of trying to act/feel like a victim in some places. The character of Eric Birling (played by Jamie Hegland) was relatively minor, and consisted mainly of being surly, drunk and/or childish. Nothing much to watch. I found the role of Sybil Birling, the daughter played by Janet Rice, was a bit too much over-the-top for her angst. Emotionally, she was all over the map as both a character and the actress…it was hard to get a read on her, and some of the dialogue for her went on and on as over-moralizing. Subtlety was not part of the script, apparently.
So you might think I didn’t like the play. Instead, it is all made up for because the role of Inspector Goole (ghoul, get it?) was filled expertly by John Collins. Admittedly he flubbed a line or two in the first half, but considering the number he has, that’s not too surprising. But he had awesome presence. Brutal, foreboding, lurking, dark, imperious, harsh. He’d start off soft in some parts, and then rip the individual to shreds in the interrogation. Digging and digging, poking and prodding until they broke and told him everything, which he already seemed to know anyway (but not in a Columbo sort of way, more like supernaturally). He was fantastic to watch.
I checked out the Internet Movie Database to see if there is a movie version, and there are multiple ones over the years. Including an all-Chinese one a few years ago. Same plot, just different names, and a few small tweaks to the setting, but otherwise the same movie.
In the end, the play was enjoyable, if a little bit heavy-handed on the moralizing in some places, but that is more a reflection of the style of dramas written in the mid-century, and particularly so when set at the turn of the century. The “we know better now” can work quite well by making even one character seem more forward-thinking than the time, but that is not the way the play was designed. Goole plays that role to some extent, but is far too dark to be inspiring. Now, if I can only find it in book form…
This past weekend, skies were looking promising and so I planned to do two star parties back to back. Friday night was the first one in Carp, the last RASC star party of the year. I’m not only a member, but I’m also actually serving as the acting star party coordinator. We have marshals though to cover if I’m not actually there, so mainly my job is to send out the notification emails in advance as reminders, and then make the call for the day before or day of the event.
I was a bit later arriving there than I had hoped, not getting there until about 6:30 p.m., so had to set up in the dusk. Long past the sun dropping below the horizon and taking the moon and three or four planets with it. I was wondering if I would be able to see Mars, Jupiter or Venus if I was using my solar filter as they are really close to the sun, but I wasn’t overly hopeful. I never got to try though.
Saturn was still up, so that was good. Turnout was about average, maybe 20+ scopes with the big 25″ from one of the members down at the end. I wandered down around 9:00 p.m. and the line-up was about 25 people long, and apparently was even longer at times.
I had this great idea to use a special list I organized on my tablet as my viewing targets, and it went out the window pretty fast as I didn’t have it set up early enough to avoid blinding people with white light while I got it going. So I did my basic alignment and some star tour stuff, before heading for seeing Saturn. Shortly after I got going, someone wandered over to say they had a new 8SE, same scope as mine, and would I mind coming over and helping him get going as he was having trouble with the red dot finder. Don’t we all?
I felt like it was time to repay some of the help I’ve received from others. Lots of people are reading my blog entries about my alignment problems, often looking for tips and tricks to see what might help them. But within RASC, I’m more often the one asking for help than giving it. It was nice to be able to explain some of the setup steps, how to make it work well the first time, etc. And more importantly, to get the dang red dot finder to align on a red light above the Diefenbunker. One alignment on Mizar and one alignment on Altair later, and he was aligned. First target was Saturn, and it was awesome to hear his excitement in seeing it in HIS scope and to then immediately call over his son who had passed the initial patience point several minutes before (I’ve been there, I recognize it!). They looked at a bunch of stuff for the rest of the night and it sounds like it went well.
Then I lost my scope. Not really. It was just that I wandered back, and of course, it’s VERY dark, and I couldn’t even FIND where I had set up. I had to wander back the opposite way twice to just to figure out where I was. Mostly as there were people looking through it at Saturn still. 🙂
I looked at a few things, and then I heard someone say in passing that the only planet available was Saturn. And I thought, “Wait a minute. I know I looked at Uranus and Neptune a week or two ago, they should still be up now.” So I went looking. Until I found Uranus. So then some visitors wandered over, and we all agreed yes it was disc-like and yes we thought it was Uranus. Hard to see it in a simple 25mm eyepiece or even my 17.3mm. But one of the other RASC members came over and confirmed it was indeed Uranus. So we tried for Neptune. That one we were far less certain of, but we did find something disc-like, just without the tell-tale blue. But again, the member confirmed it was indeed Neptune, which made one of our guests quite happy — he had now seen all 7 visible planets in a scope. Beats me — I haven’t seen Mercury yet.
Two more guys wandered by and we started looking at nebulae. The nearby member also lent me an Oxygen III filter to pull out some details from the Veil Nebula which was cool, albeit quite dark with the filter on. We looked at a bunch of objects for about 90 minutes. Mostly as the one guy is thinking of buying a scope like mine, and wanted to experience it. Around 11:00, I think, I happened to notice that Orion was up, and someone mentioned the Orion Nebula. I hadn’t seen it in almost two years, so I was in. But the guy loaned me an UltraBlock filter. Which made the nebula just “pop”. Eloquent as always, I think my official comment was “Holy crap!”.
After the two guys left, a couple came along where it was obvious the guy was super interested and his girlfriend was playing a supportive partner. She was interested, but she clearly had passed her interest point. Nevertheless, she was game to keep going, so we split some stars, looked at Uranus, etc. Just before the end of the night, I wandered down to the 25″ scope to see M15 and then looked at it afterwards on my own much more pitiful 8″ scope. It was almost laughable the difference. On the other hand, mine fits in the back of my car; the 25″ travels in a horse trailer. I love to see through it, but man, it’s HUGE.
And that was it for the night. And for the season. Sad to see it go, particularly as I have everything working now!
On Saturday, I ran by the telescope store to talk about filters and a specific EP that I have, checked a few things out for their “used” items, and then I headed out to Luskville for the AstroPontiac evening. I’m on the Board, although that mainly means I try to go to their star parties, I do the website, and I sign some docs from time to time. My friend is the main driving force, and he has some good results to show for it.
My son had asked to go on Friday night to the Star Party in Carp, but with my marshal duties, I wasn’t planning on leaving until after midnight, too late for him. So I planned around him coming to Luskville, along with my wife, and we got there just between 5:00 and 5:30 p.m. Not that there was any rush. The skies were REALLY overcast.
Fortunately, it’s right next to the Luskville Falls hiking trail, so we went and looked at the waterfalls and then had a little picnic dinner while watching leaves fall in the dusk light and listened to the falls themselves crashing in the distance.
Just after 7:00, I said, “Why not?” and I tried setting up out of pure force of will. The skies weren’t cooperating, but perhaps if I set up, they’d open up. They were supposed to clear at 8:00 p.m., but it wasn’t certain. We crossed our fingers.
I did manage to catch Saturn not long after 7:00 through a small opening in the clouds. I wasn’t aligned, but I could manually spot it. The clarity/seeing was pretty low quality, but we saw it. Then the hole closed and we waited. Just after 8:00, it did look like it was going to clear…some of the clouds started to drift away, I managed to do an alignment, and then they clouded back in again.
My friend managed to keep a bunch of people engaged for about 45 minutes explaining the sky, even if he couldn’t show it to them. And I passed the time giving an interview to the local press about the Initiative. That was a first for me.
Not too long after 9:00, we called it a night and started packing up. Most of the night, Jacob was in the car playing on his tablet, which is the reason I brought it. Sitting around in the dark talking about skies we’ve seen in the past isn’t that exciting for him. I managed to show off some of my old photos of what is possible to see even with a basic scope, but that’s a pale imitation of the real thing.
However, although it wasn’t the BEST NIGHT EVER or anything, it was still fun. We can’t always have great nights, but we can make whatever night we have as great as possible. And any night I can see Saturn, I call a win.
In some of my postings about goals, I’ve mentioned that I needed a new dentist, etc. I did that last year, and the main reason for searching is a bit convoluted. Lots of causes that had previous causes, almost “root” causes, without intending a dental pun. If you want to get to the funny part, just skip down to the BIG DAY heading below, the rest is more about how I got there.
First and foremost, I hated the hygienists at the old dentist. The dentist has a good business model that works for her where she hires new hygienists, gives them experience but doesn’t pay very well, and after a year or two, they move on to somewhere where they can get paid better. Great for the dentist, bad for me as a patient. I have extra deposits, and plaque builds up quickly. So I get extra scaling, usually needing to go every 3 months. Yet with these newbie hygienists, it was torture. I had a few bad ones and I really started dreading going. It wasn’t always this way, there used to be a woman there named Vicky who was friendly, cute, and talkative, and she was amazing with teeth. 45 minutes later, she was done, and you were like, “Oh, really? Great!”. She left long ago for greener pastures closer to where she lived in Barrhaven. The new ones are terrible for distracting, not much for talking, and more importantly, they jab your gums several times a minute. It’s like torture. After three bad visits in a row, I had to stop. I was getting seriously phobic. My back was rigid, I was gripping the chair arms, it was horrible.
Now if I go back a few years, it might not be their fault so much as the dentist that was an idiot. I needed a couple of small cavities filled, and I told him quite bluntly, “I have a strong gag reflex”. Like most dentists, they nod, smile and say “Of course you do”, and then proceed as if all patients say that. Which may be true, but I am not like other patients. Blowing air on the back of my throat will cause me to gag. Water pooling near the back of my throat will cause me to gag. Saliva on the rubber dam at the side of my mouth causes me to gag. Gag, gag, gag. Which is a problem when you can only have someone working in there for a few minutes at a time and then you need a quick break for 30 seconds to reset everything, but they need to do fillings which take more time than that. Enter the various dams and instruments designed to prop your mouth open so it can’t close. Big dams, little dams, dams that fish swim over, doesn’t matter, I gag. So he came up with a brilliant plan to use this other device, kind of like a metal toothpick that can unscrew in the middle and grow longer. Place one end on bottom tooth, one end on top tooth, open the middle and it pushes up top and pushes down bottom, you can’t close your mouth, and there are no dams causing you to salivate. Sounded great.
What he forgot to mention was that to protect your tongue from cutting itself on the metal, they put a small loop and some latex around it. Nothing big. Until it gets wet. And slides to the back of your throat. And it feels like you are swallowing a balloon, and you’re going to die. I didn’t just gag, I went into full convulsions, 100% panic attack. Demanding it come out only to find out it doesn’t come out easily, he has to gently remove it over five minutes, once of course I am totally calm and not gagging. I just about ripped it out myself manually. I mentally gritted the teeth I couldn’t grit physically, calmed myself, got him to get it out, and then threw up.
But he wasn’t done with the fillings. I had holes where the fillings needed to set. So I did the next 20 minutes holding my mouth open myself, just keeping it open while he did his work and let my rage consumed me. Didn’t exactly endear me towards future dental interventions, so maybe the hygienists weren’t entirely at fault…I wasn’t positively disposed.
Or maybe I start back further in my childhood where we didn’t have money for dentists, I only went once when I was about 9 or 10, I had 1 cavity and it was loose, so no intervention required. We never went back. Fast forward to maybe age 26 or 27 before I saw another one, no major issues, and nothing again until I was probably 33 or so when I finally started going regularly.
Regular cleaning, then bad dental experience, regular cleaning, some more fillings that were okay, not great, and then regular cleaning with increasingly negative experiences with the hygienists. Until I couldn’t face them anymore. The thought of sitting with them poking me was near on triggering panic attacks. I just couldn’t do it. So I promised myself I would find a new dentist and a new hygienist. By the time I did, probably 3 or 4 years had passed. I definitely needed extensive scaling, which I had them do over two one-hour sessions. Not awesome, but survivable. And the dentist found lots of work to be done to clean up things that could get worse.
I told her my past experiences, warned her of the gag reflex, she said, “Of course, no problem” and then tried me with the smallest dam I’ve ever seen. I still gagged. She said, “Have you considered sedation dentistry? You would be a good candidate.”
In truth, I had considered it but figured it was overkill for my problem. I had, after all, sat through fillings with a good dentist, and could get through cleanings. Once my confidence was up again, I figured I could make it through. But when she told me I needed to get up to 15 to 25 minutes of duration with her working in my mouth at one go, my confidence plummeted. Plus there was the added bonus that if I did sedation, they could do my mouth all at once instead of four separate appointments.
Well, sign me up and call me wimpy! When I met with them, I said, “Before you put anything in my mouth for the checkup, I will tell you, I am not here because of simple phobia. I have a REALLY strong gag reflex. Even air will trigger it.” They were undeterred, so we proceeded. Relatively quick appointment, agreed with the original dentist’s assessment, booked me in.
And then when I was scheduled to go, I was sick. Not really bad, but definitely something cold plus. Rescheduled. I called back the week before the second date and said, “Okay, I have a really bad cough, might take 4-5 weeks with the steroid to clear, is that an issue?”. They said it would be better to wait because the sedation dentistry drys out your throat. So we postponed again. I can’t lie to myself and say each one wasn’t a bit of a relief, but I was also disappointed that it was not going to be done and finished last year. It was part of my big goals. I had at least found the new dentist, got the cleanings done, back on track etc., but the “fix” wasn’t done yet.
The Big Day
This morning was the big day. It’s been a tough week for me, combination of lots going, big event coming up, and I was stressed about today’s dental work. I kept calling it dental surgery, although I guess it wasn’t quite that — it is just sedation dentistry on my entire mouth at once.
We dropped Jacob off at school early (8:00 a.m.) and then came back home to call a taxi. I took a small relaxant they gave me to take 1 hour before the surgery, and man, that’s some really good stuff. Triazolam, .25 mg. It says it may cause drowsiness, and they are NOT KIDDING. I took it about 8:20. Andrea would be my body chauffeur for the day, and we took a cab to the dentist, a short 10 minute drive. I think I fell asleep part way there. I don’t remember the whole trip. I do remember coming awake just before the turn. I don’t remember very well Andrea paying him, but then we were out of the car heading inside.
Took my boots off, have no memory what happened to my coat. It must have come off, but I don’t remember being helped with it or giving it to Andrea or hanging it up. I walked over to the reception to check in, told them my name, and tried to get my health card out to show them. They didn’t need it, I was all checked in. They told me that twice, and it wasn’t that I didn’t believe them the first time, it was that I was still trying to process what they told me at snail speed in my brain when they told me the second time. I remember trying to get my health card out of my wallet and struggling, and thinking, “This is just me being clumsy, it’s not the drug.” It totally was the drug.
I went and sat down with Andrea. I know because I remember the chairs and some confusion as to where to sit. Then I fell asleep with Andrea holding my head up. They came and got me 12 hours later, although Andrea says it was only about 10 minutes. I remember them calling my name, and some time later I stood up and followed her out.
We went towards a room that was down the hall to the right. Definitely remember that. The room had a chair and supposedly I sat in it, but I don’t remember sitting down or anything else. There were questions, but I was a wee bit sleepy at that point. Then they put the IV in. She had trouble, as they all do, and I told her normally I need a really good phlebotomist to do it. She said maybe today wasn’t the day for her to come to work. I think she was joking, not sure now. She was trying to get me to turn my arm over to put it in the underside of my wrist. I was not very cooperative.
Then there was pain. Not my pain. I mean, I could feel it, but I’m pretty sure it was happening to my arm that was somehow in another room at that point. I wasn’t with the arm, I don’t think. And I could recognize that it hurt, and I remember thinking, please don’t wiggle the needle around, I had that once when I was getting freezing in a toe and it hurt like hell.
Then there is a small memory gap. Perhaps two hours worth.
Careful interrogation of Andrea says I was with them for about an hour having the work done. They confirmed to Andrea that “He really does have a strong gag reflex” since I still gagged even with all the sedation. (Yes! I knew it! In your face (!), all you dentists who thought it was simply all in my head!). Afterwards, they brought me back to the waiting room and Andrea claims she sat and held my hand and arm. Then they asked me if I wanted more oxygen as I was feeling dizzy still. Apparently I said yes. And they took me back to the room again, this time with Andrea.
After about 30 minutes, Andrea called a taxi, they helped me with my boots and coat, and someone forgot about Police Protocol 101 to help someone into a car where you protect their head as apparently I just about whacked it a good one. When we got home, I got out of the cab on my own, kind of falling, and then walking like a zombie towards the snow bank where I started making a snowball as I wanted one. Andrea fears it was going to be thrown at her, and she’s probably right. The thought makes me giggle. She helped me up the steps and into the house. I managed to take my boots off myself. Not sure about coat.
I then went and laid down on the couch, which sounds vaguely familiar and she brought me some orange jello. I remember jello. I don’t know how I went from sitting in the waiting room with Andrea holding my head up before the dentist to sitting on the couch eating jello, but I did apparently.
And then I proceeded to sleep on and off the rest of the day, finally forcing myself upright around 5:00 p.m. Ate regular supper, did some stuff on my computer, still feel like there is a fog somewhere around in my brain wanting to reclaim me and make me sleep. Which is where I’m going soon. Part of the reason I’m writing this down is I’m not entirely sure I’ll remember it all tomorrow.
Back when I was scheduling the work, I remember they told me I needed an escort to take me home. I thought, “Wow, that seems like overkill”. Particularly when they told me I wouldn’t be completely out, I’d be awake during the dentistry (not a fan of that idea, honestly). But overkill it definitely was NOT. Those drugs were GOOOOOOD. As was my wonderful panda.
Of course, if embarrassing photos start showing up on internet sites or FaceBook, I might know who to blame. I won’t be able to claim they’re not me, cuz I have no idea what else happened in those two hours. I think the snowball part is likely true though.
An interesting experience over the last six days. I am using my machine more and more each night, and sleeping longer and longer each bout. I still wake up once or twice during the night, but that’s better than 3-4. In terms of “incidences”, my AHI index of 124 which is way beyond severe apnea, is down to less than 5 (earlier it said .5, but that was an email typo of my results). So that’s the sleep side, which is the primary goal.
However, I have had fewer foggy incidents during the day too. My head is generally clearer. I have felt a bit light-headed a few times later at night, and my sleep cycle is still off. I did better the first week, better sleep routine, this past few nights I’ve been back to going to bed too late and getting up later in the morning. Which then messes me up during the day, particularly if I compensate with caffeine or more fluid intake after 9:00 at night. In other words, the sleep machine doesn’t cure having a stupid sleep routine that can still screw me up. Or, as Andrea puts it, one week won’t cure your sleep deficit of 47 years. Personally, I’m looking into declaring sleep bankruptcy, starting fresh. 🙂
At the same time, however, I have blood pressure issues from before. About 3 years ago, I was sick and jacked myself full of cold remedies for a week. By the weekend, I had a serious sore ear, and thought it was an infection or something. Nope, glands were fine too. I did however have a BP of 165/100 or so. Stroke range. Got the meds going, can’t take decogestants cuz part of how they work is jacking BP, and the meds keep me pretty even-keeled at 120/80ish. Sometimes 125, sometimes 85, but most of the time it is 120/80 plus a point or two.
However, a friend who was doing great with similar machine noted her BP was way down after a month. So I started tracking it immediately, worried about it going too low. Had a small checkup at doctor’s the other day (with an awesome doctor, surprisingly, too bad I probably can’t keep her there, it’s a teaching clinic), and my BP was down to 114/80 and 111/78. So we’re changing dosage of one of my meds. Definitely an encouraging sign.
There’s also an improvement I think in overall energy levels, but not sure quite how to explain it. Basically, I’m less abnormally tired/exhausted and more normally sleepyish? I’m not falling asleep or anything, but I do find myself yawning more than I did before. A very relaxed sleepy yawn rather than a tense over-tired haven’t slept yawn.
I’m not fog free, I’m not using the machine for a full sleep cycle, I’m not bouncing with energy and glowing as the picture of health, but it’s all going well. I have another three weeks before I go for my follow-up appointment but I’m moving from cautiously optimistic to relatively convinced there are strong treatment benefits if not yet an outright “cure” for my apnea.
The success has also had a few ripple effects on other goals — I’m more motivated to do basic exercise (walking, etc.), I bought a new weight scale with better precision for a guy of my weight/size, I’m tracking my sleep times in my phone tracker too. All seems to be moving forward.
Funny thing, I’m more excited to get off my BP meds so that I can take cold remedies again when I’m sick (I have a lot of trouble kicking things now without access to decongestants), but Andrea mentioned — “don’t forget alcohol again too!”. Since I’m such a lush, no doubt! 🙂
Back when I was in my tadpole years (age 29-34), and I was breaking my psyche down into the little component bits, attempting to rearrange them, trying out new formations and configurations, etc., I was forced to confront the age-old psychological & philosophical question of nature vs. nurture. How much of “who I was” was a result of genetic coding and how much of it was the environment in which I was raised?
Yet for me, there was a third variable. How much could awareness of who I was (regardless of nature or nurture) allow me to overcome the “programming” inside and create different outcomes? In short, how much would awareness give me choice?
Today was a good test of that conundrum.
By nature, I’m smart, but an analytical introvert (AI). And as an AI, I distrust others by instinct, don’t like relying on others for things, and generally would rather do without something than ask for it from someone else who could just as easily say no as yes.
By nurture, I’m a pessimist, routinely suspicious of others and the fickle finger of fate. One of my brothers is like that — he feels like everyone is out to get him, government and business will always screw the little guy, and at the smallest sign of failure, he assumes the sky is going to fall. I don’t have it quite as bad, but I do sense it from time to time clouding my approaches to certain things.
By choice, I try to choose optimism for outcomes, I try to rely on others even if my instincts tell me not to do so, and I ask even when I could easily presuppose a “no”. Each day is a daily struggle to choose to fight my instincts, some days are more successful than others.
So here’s the scenario…we bought all our kitchen pieces for our renovation back in August / September. There were a couple of reconfigs in there, so some changes to design and approach, and some more pieces in October. When all was said and done, we had some shelves, cupboard doors, and some drawer fronts left over. In short, a bunch of unopened and opened packages, maybe 20 in all. Andrea and I finished the reorganization in early January, and we still had about 15 packages left over, of which 12 were unopened.
Now here’s the rub with Ikea — their general return policy is 90 days. After that, it’s a bit discretionary, but you need the receipt regardless. I talked to the kitchen people, they said it would be at the discretion of the Returning officer, but “worth a shot”. My nature worked against me for a bit, partly because I could go ask at the desk, or I could take everything with me and ask, or I could just presuppose a negative outcome and do nothing. Paralysis by analysis.
Two weeks of leave in February put me back in control of my life, and so I was more motivated to do something about it, and my wife gave me a small kick in the pants today too. So, while Jacob and Andrea went tobogganing, I took the 12 unopened packages over to Ikea. A choice that goes against both nature and nurture.
Now I know lots of things about negotiating techniques, how to do it from strength, how to do it from weakness, how to impose my will through aggression, etc. Most of them are distasteful, manipulative. And if I’m going to “choose” to be someone I’m not, that isn’t the guy. So I decided I would leave the stuff in the car, go up, be completely transparent, tell them I expected a “no” but wanted to ask anyway, no pressure, just a conversation. They said yes, sure, bring it on up. Small hesitation, not much. Now Ikea is known for better-than-average return policies, but still, this is six months later. Would have to be store credit, which is fine with me (we have a small list of three shelving units we or rather I want anyway).
Back downstairs, loaded up, upstairs, different woman, a little grumpy, and so she wants the receipts and some ID, and onward. I said I wasn’t sure what it would show up as on the receipts as the name on the box didn’t seem to match the receipt names, but maybe I was looking in the wrong place. No worries, she scanned the receipts, and then scanned each of the 12 items. None of the items matched my receipts i.e. I’d brought all the receipts I had set aside, but apparently missed some in my paper tracking. Crap. One rule they have is you need the receipts. So I figure I’m going back home, blah blah blah, my nurture side telling me the likely outcome.
Nope, she waived it, gave me a store credit for all of it, signed a receipt, all done. No muss, no fuss, and $500 back in my pocket. Because I fought against nature and nurture. Now, of course the success this time won’t make any difference next time, I’ll still have to fight. But it’s nice to see the choice side win so clearly once in awhile.
Thanks Ikea, Andrea, and the fickle finger of fate that pointed good luck in my direction today.
