July 3, 2009
Yowsers. nothing says tired like a red-eye flight. I was greatful for my eyemask and ipod to provide about an hour of sleep. Its now 835 dc time - the sun has helped to trick me into being awake, but I am a little snoozy...the adventures of jet-setting!
I sit here on the metro riding into dc metro to meet up with Russel and begin the actual conference part of my trip. Its so lush here - i forget how green the east coast is. One pays the price of humidity and frequent rain showers, but it is so green! Sacramento is in the midst of summer - a dull, brown affair. At least here on the east coast you reap green with the heat...
I would like to thank the government for the next part of my story. You see, I got into dc around 645am. By the time I got my luggage which was gate-checked due to full cabin capacity, it was about 7:20-7:30. At this point I was to take the DC B30 to get to the greenbelt metro station. Well, folks, the Friday before the 4th is a holiday! Of course. Thererfore, the buses werent on regular schedules. Apparently, 940 was the earliest bus in. I was not in a position to wait two hours. Not after flying for 5+ hours and having a 2 1/2 hour layover in the diry LAX. The supershuttle wasnt super at all at $37 bucks a pop! So, in true Shannon style, I put on my selling hat and decided to make something happen. There was a nice gentleman on a green cellphone dubbed “green -cell phone” and a nice lady standing next to me waiting for the same bus.
It was cab time.
Now, because of the holiday schedule and the holiday in general, business was slow. Picture a nice fleet of shiny white taxis (are they only yellow in NY?) waiting curbside. Being smart, i know they are hurting for business. So, I go and start talking rates. Remember, I am a short, white “little” girl. No one really expects me to talk the way I do. Its fun. The rates were “metered” and at least $65. They try to use reverse selling to get me in the cab. Reminding me that with the holiday the bus schedule is slow and they can go “right now!”
Ahem, I know that.
I use the whole bird in the hand line and begin talking them down. No budging. They warm up a little and wonder where I am going. I want to go to the greenbelt station. They want to take me ALL the way to dc. I thank them & walk away. (disineterest and having “other options” is an excellent tactic.) I then went and rounded up a 4th person and came back determined to negotiate to a flat rate of $60. $15 bucks per person was reasonable in our situation.
After the fourth recruit was in place, I came back to the cabbie station to talk final cost. They were pretty stiff folks. At first they werent going to negotiate a flat rate. I began to remind them that business is slow. They nodded - and I continued that we were here and willing to pay a reduced flat rate. Back to the meter issue. But the black guy heading up the crew was quite impressed with my skills stating that I was really a good talker! Hah. He has no idea - finally all those years of being a chatty cathy are paying off! That, and he didnt have a clue about my dads barganing skills. (I did ya’ proud dad)
Well, I held firm - I told them I knew they could do a flat rate at a lower cost since we were standing there. I was directed to the cabbie. This is the extra treat. He was russian. No one likes a good bargain and negotiation like a russian man. I go over and he insists that the meter is the meter. No negotiation. I walk away. Shortly after, he walks up to me and asks what I want to pay. $55. He said no way and leaves. (We are high-time dancing at this moment). I say, alright, $60. He says $62. I hold at $60. He says we have a deal. Everyone is happy. The four of us load into the car and off we go.
On the way, I ask Michael (probably originally Mi-k-ellle) quesitons. He is a true russian with very few words and no smiles. I wanted to be friends by the end of the trip to the metro. He starts to open up and offer an extended trip into dc for a reduced rate of $20 per person. Progress. He has offered a gesture of interest. In the end we decided it wasnt good because we were each going different directions in dc, but we all laughed.
I then asked Michael if he was originally from Russia. You can hear a concealed smile in his voice as he asked “why do you say that?” I mention the cyrillic newspaper and the accent. If you watched him closely at that point, you would have seen a discreet nod of approval. And the pride of the motherland seems to almost take over Michael as he states that he is from St. Petersburg. Ah, yes, I have been there I tell him. Again, concealed happiness that I have visited his great country. He continues to open up by asking me if I knew any Russian. This would be the final and true test of my small talk - a test of his ability to allow entrance into his world. “nyet.” “nyet?” We exchange small words and he is visibally pleased with my meager attempt to share my limited russian.
In the end we were friends. Spasiba, I told him. He smiled, I think. He then wished me good health in russian - and asked if I knew that phrase. I didnt, but I repeated it to him several times in hopes to remember. He nodded that I had it right, a final tribute to our new friendship.
Welcome to sunny DC. California has hit your city in a whole new way!
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