My dad loves the expression “The squeaky wheel gets the oil.”
He also loves demanding oil when he’s told there is no oil, or that the squeaky wheels aren’t allowed to have it.
Which brings me to another favorite expression of his: “Would it be possible for you to make an exception?”
The lesson I learned from a lifetime of hearing this is that “no” does not always mean “no.”
OK, calm down. Before you get all up in arms and hold a “Take Back the Night” vigil outside my window, I’m not talking about rapey stuff. (Come on, what rapist asks, “Would you make an exception?” Although, now that I think about it, the Reasonable Rapist would be a great press story. And SVU episode.)
I’m talking about cases where you ask for something out of the ordinary, something that requires breaking a stupid rule, and the person in charge claims that they’re not actually in charge; that they’d love to say yes but their “hands are tied”.
Example:
I recently called Apple’s help line, and after I read the guy my serial number, he told me, “Looks like your Applecare plan has expired. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you.”
I said, “Is there any chance you could make an exception? I’ve had so many problems with this Macbook. And I’ve been an Apple customer for 30 years.”
He said, “OK.”
Maybe the idea of someone old enough to have used computers in the early 80s confounded him and threw him off his game. Otherwise, I don’t know why he would say yes.
Because although this “no doesn’t mean no” thing is my approach to life, it almost never works. Except to annoy people. It starts off with a friendly tone of “hey, you’re an understanding person, how about it?” and escalates to choked up outrage and indignation on my part, and eye rolling on theirs.
Earlier this summer, I got a glimpse of how annoying the “don’t take no for an answer” strategy can be.
It was the day of the Gay Pride Parade. Steven and I had to get somewhere that required crossing 5th Avenue, something smart people avoid doing during a 5th Avenue parade. When we reached the middle of the block, we ran into a throng of people, loosely “lined up” to cross the street. We joined the end of it, hoping it would start moving. It did, after about ten minutes. And then the moving stopped.
We’d advanced to a place where we just might make the next crossing, but Steven predicted we wouldn’t. “Watch,” he said. “They’ll cut off the line right before us.”
Eventually, we started to move again. Everyone in the line, desperate not to wait another ten minutes, pushed us from behind and yelled “Go go go go go!”
This is how people get trampled to death.
Unfortunately, it’s not how they make it across the street. Just as Steven and I reached the front, joined hands and attempted to bolt across, two cops stepped in front of us with their arms spread wide and said, “Sorry, that’s it!”
“Oh, come on!” I yelled. “We’ve been waiting twenty minutes!”
A guy next to me, whom I’ll call “Outraged Guy,” joined in. “This is ridiculous! You can’t do this!!”
“Sorry,” the cops said. “We have to stop it somewhere.”
I was about to plead, “Can you please make an exception?” when I realized that an argument with cops in the middle of a sweltering hot parade wouldn’t go anywhere good.
Either that, or Steven kicked me.
At any rate, getting stuck would turn out to be a good thing, because for 10 minutes, we had a front row view of people dancing in their underwear on rainbow-painted floats. And, even more entertaining, this scenario:
OUTRAGED GUY: “Please, do me a favor here. I’m trying to get to work!”
Cops 1 AND 2: Silent shrugs.
OUTRAGED GUY: “Come on! Some of us actually work for a living! Now I’m going to get fired for being late!”
COP 1: “You should have left extra time.”
OUTRAGED GUY: “I shouldn’t have to! All you have to do is let me through!”
COP 2: “It’s not up to us. We don’t make the rules.”
OUTRAGED GUY: “But you DO make the rules! You’re letting people through arbitrarily!”
COP 2: “No we’re not. We’re just doing our job here.”
OUTRAGED GUY: “Oh, very nice, nice job passing the buck.”
COP 1: “We’re not passing the buck, so much as…you’re falling on deaf ears.”
OUTRAGED GUY: “Great! So now you’re passing the buck AND turning a deaf ear. Must be nice. I wish I had that job.”
COP 2: “No you don’t.”
OUTRAGED GUY: “Well why don’t you write a note to my employer, because now I’m going to get fired!!”
COP 1: “No you’re not. You’re not going to get fired.”
OUTRAGED GUY: “Wanna bet? Thanks a lot!”
This was the last thing he said, right before they started to let our group through and he broke into a desperate run. Which, unsurprisingly, was entirely for show. We watched him slow down to an easy trot and then a calm walk as soon as he was halfway up the next block.
Ha. Late for work. More likely, late to get a hotdog.
The lesson here? It’s not that “no” really does mean “no.”
It’s that you can’t change it to “yes” if you sound like a big fat loser.
I’m sure that’s exactly how I sound when I get into these things. But that probably won’t stop me from trying. It’s my way.
What about you? Do you ask for “exceptions”?
Do you crusade against stupid rules, even when you know you’re coming off like a clown? Tell me in the comments.
Laura,
I’m pleased to be given the credit for the idea of asking for exceptions. Thanks! I really wasn’t the first. I was 2nd.
I haven’t had so much pleasure as when I appeared on TV at the Freud Museum in London, or on the Jon Stewart show.
Nothing like a family affair.
Love,
Dad
I only ask for exceptions when it’s important to me to pick the battle. For example, my recent showdown with Chase Bank, wherein they assured me I’d still be able to access my checking account statements after closing my checking account. Of course, it wasn’t true. But, I did ask for them to print my statements free of charge. Important exception, important win!
This is an entirely cultural thing. I live in the Middle East and “no” means, “please ask me again”. Even the firmest “no” can be turned to a yes either by strong-arming and yelling, or by playing it nice and asking for an exception as you did. But either way it is expected for you to argue and not considered annoying or anything.
Hate: Showing up at a bar that I have been to a billion times that has a surprise cover charge when I have NO cash.
Rule Bend: Please let me in to see the 90s cover band without paying the $10 cover!
I sounded like a big fat loser begging the overweight “I hate my life and job” bouncer to let me in. He REFUSED.
ME: “Come one, man! Make one exception. I’ll buy lots of booze.” (trying to look my cutest)
Bouncer: “NOPE!”
If it wasn’t for the hot bartender running over and saving the day, I would have had to take my sorry a** home.
That “no” turned into a “yes”.
Karie 1 Bouncer ZEROOO
Sweet! Bouncer got FACED. I guess you didn’t have your police badge at the time. Those must be really good for getting exceptions.
Wow that’s an awesome way to get Apple to help you. 😉 I must admit I don’t usually think to ask for exceptions. I know it’s possible, but I tend to go from “no” to “moving on then” fairly quickly.
You’ve just convinced me (in the most entertaining way possible) that I should pause at “could you make an exception?” before moving on. 🙂
Yes, you’re being way too easy on all the idiots. Give em’ hell and get your way. Or, bribe them with a free hour of tech help. That would also work.
Next time you need a free pass try “But Raven said I could!!!” that always works for me. It also helps to be very drunk.
“RAVEN SAID!!” I’m going to try that next time I want to be banned from China Grill forever. (I don’t want to go any place you’re not allowed, Jana.)
I must admit I’m guilty of spouting the whole “you gotta be the squeaky wheel…”. It mostly works.
But you know, I’ve never used the “Would it be possible for you to make an exception?” line. I think I’m going to give it a go. What’s the worst that could happen, I look like a dick? Hmmm, that’s possible without even asking that question. I can be a dick (please don’t quote me).
“Ha. Late for work. More likely, late to get a hotdog.” I liked this line. Made me laugh.
You know what they say about the squeaky dick… Well, actually, I’m not sure they say anything about that. No one wants to talk about it.
YES! I crusade against stupid rules, and poor biz practices, and idiocy in general.
I’m pretty damn good at very diplomatically handing someone their ass (I’ve even had people come back and thank me later..lol) but, I must admit, on occasion I’m equally as good at losing it and when I do, I realize I’m being an ass and it’s pointless, but I can’t quite seem to help myself. ; )
It’s been awhile since I’ve dropped by and I’m reminded why I should make it a regular habit. So enjoy your posts, Laura.
Glad you dropped by! Next time you diplomatically hand someone their ass, please record the whole thing so I can see your process.
LOL! You got it, Laura! 😉
You always make me laugh with your writing skilz.
And make me wish I still lived in the Apple. Speaking of telling the Apple young man that you were from the 80s Apple era.. In ’84 my ex, the photog who shot all the Apple brochures, machines, Jobs/Woz etc.was doing the shoot. I kept coming and going, shuffling my feet saying, ‘when will you be done shooting’…
I wish I had known that I was impatiently standing around FAME! And wish I had bought some shares.
Seriously. Who knew those mom jeans and black turtleneck would one day be iconic?
I say the 80s are the time to have been around. Today’s kids missed it all.
My dad taught me that if you just keep repeating yourself over and over, eventually people either believe you or get tired of you and do what you want, basically to shut you up. It works with everything except airlines. I think he must have talked to them, too, because they just keep repeating themselves back to me. Makes for very uninteresting conversation.
It’s true. Airlines are immovable. I wish your dad hadn’t taught them his trade secrets.
Sometimes I find if I just wait there long enough, giving a friendly look like “Come on, it’s easier just to do it than to keep telling me you can’t,” they’ll do whatever it is just to get rid of me. Try it.
I like the menacing undertones of your friendly look. I’m going to steal that from you, yes.
This post reminds me that I haven’t been asking for exceptions often enough…not that I find myself in situations where people tell me no very often, but the next time I do, it’s on!
Btw, Stephen should have kicked the guy who was running late, instead of you in this story-what an asshole (not Stephen, the guy).
Gurrrl, with a body like that, you don’t have to ask for exceptions. And, Steven doesn’t kick strangers in front of cops.
btw, I did my own pet peeve, spelled your hubby’s name wrong even though it was right in the post. sorry homey!
I think Jason just had a similar experience with Apple Care. At the risk of being murdered in my sleep by all the women who read this (and at being totally off topic), I just want to state for the record that no matter how many nights we took back in college, no does not always mean no.
You’re so right. Except when it comes to being murdered. If you say “no, I don’t want you to kill me in my sleep,” people should take that seriously.
Personally, I would like to take back the night from the douchebags who’ve ruined nighttime in the West Village. Not raping, just high-fiving.
BTW, my women readers won’t be mad at you. But my WOMYN readers are coming to get you!
LB….When I go exception fishing, I typically bait my line with a pained victimized-sounding
“C’mon..is it because I’m black?” or a pleading
“Please..it’s Black History month”…
And no, it doesn’t matter to whom I’m speaking (race neutral, what particular month we happen to be in, or the sought after free pass….
Often, after a confused look, Option B will at times be challenged in months other than our calendar’s shortest…in which case I merely follow up with my pardon my innocent mistake shoulder shrug and my best give a brutha a break face
surprisingly High catch rate…
Perhaps you and Steven oughta try it…
Best,
LB
P.S. I can’t believe you NEVER respond to my invitation to come by Tillman’s…..ummm…Is it because I’m black?
LB! I’m so glad it’s not just me. I ALWAYS get a confused look when I ask “Is it because I’m black?”
You should try this: “Is it because I’m a lesbian?” That might work.
Now that you’ve thrown down the invite in this public space, I might have to come. I don’t want everyone to think I’m racist.
(Actually, Alex L. and I were just talking about going together to one of your thangs.)
Love getting a comment from you!
-LB