Ninja Negotiations

The shock came from a text reminder, “Remember, your rent has gone up to $505 this month, thanks.” Really, I thought, since when? Despite the landlord later calling the conversation with me a hassle, I stayed the course. Unrelenting and focused on the goal: of negotiating a fair and legal rent.

After venting to a friend and googling tenant laws, the owner’s answer “It should be in the agreement, and it goes up 3-5% a year for inflation” rolled off me like water off a duck’s back.

Should be? Inflation happens? Well, well, well. According to state law, I must have 60 days’ notification, and be able to negotiate the rate. And then provided a link to the RCW to prove it. So when the unread contract arrived in my inbox the following morning, I knew I’d won. So I pounded my chest like the ape I was.

But the more I sat with the consequences of the force at which I bargained, I couldn’t help but wonder, at what cost?

After sharing the tale with my Freud-like friend, their “You have strong principles” stuck with me. Strong principles! Why yes I do, I thought proudly. Strong principles? Wait, I wondered, did he mean that as a good thing?

Today I had a similar feeling.

“Can I have just the snap-on Pyrex ones” is the response to a photo of two bags full of lovely assorted Tupperware I was giving away in a community gifting group. I immediately gave the person a piece of my mind in my mind “No, you cannot just select the best ones. You must take them all. Because that’s what’s fair, you entitled little…”

Then I may have said something about punching her in the face to Dave. What else are spouses for other than to expel one’s desire for violence that will never actually take place?

As you can see, I’m not perfect at balancing principles and empathy yet. And I don’t anticipate a huge update coming my way anytime soon.

On another note, I’m rereading one of my favorite books of all time, “Skinny Legs and All”. I don’t remember reading it this closely before and savoring it like it’s the lime and cilantro-infused sweet coconut soup at my favorite Thai restaurant. Don’t even get me started on that Tom Ka soup! Like how I’ll let it float in my tongue boat so it can kiss my every taste bud with a seducing hello and goodbye before it slinks down the back of my throat to rest in the bosom of my belly.

I just don’t get how that author braids and weaves so many adjectives, creative juices, and deeper meanings all into one book. I wish I could actually just read it. Instead, the whole time I’m wondering how. But not unlike the stressed Billy Crystal on horseback in the movie “City Slickers”, although it’s adrenaline-pumping being that high up in the air and feeling the wind high-fiving your face, it’s so intimidating, there’s no way I can do that.

But I’ll keep trying. Show up, ride the trail, and eventually when Jack Palance dies after a long night of drinking, and leaves me with my two friends cattle driving through the southwest, I might not do it as well as the old-timer racher, but I will get it done. Because gosh darn it, I’m a rancher, I mean writer.

Love, Jaclynn