I was under the assumption that it would be war. I was assigned to a case for client I had previously dealt with, an assignment that ended up sour because the client wanted to keep more money to himself that was fair. (Fairness and money: disconnects?) I hunted down a probable saint and conned a car off of him, and I was soon on my way up north.
I had no lunch, no breakfast, and in a bad mood: I didn’t particularly like the client, and I didn’t particularly enjoy being part of a trussed up deal. Within minutes of our second meeting in 12 months I realized that was how this was going to play out. I couldn’t back out this time, and decided to wing it.
I got him talking, all the while watching his eyes; when he smiled his eyes would look like slits on a green bean, his chubby face would light up with his teeth-showing smile. Cheshire cat. What was that character in Alice in Wonderland, that disappearing cat?
“Not below 70%,” he said. He turned to his friend, the person I visited him with. His friend looked at me, eyes blank.
“Not 70%, 70%’s difficult. Very difficult,” I said, after some thought. He was looking at me with his slit-eyed smile and I had the impression of being watched, carefully.
“How low must you go?” he said when he heard my answer.
“You must understand that 20%’s the upper limit,” I said, “The very upper limit”.
“That’s not good enough for me,” he said, turning away. He fiddled with his phone, a shiny metallic contraption with rings and zings.
“If we go for the alternative, we’ll end up with the same problems. Like before,” I said, putting on as gracious a smile as possible. He didn’t want to hear it. His friend had explained to me earlier how the earlier situation was resolved; it involved parties that got even him burned. But I knew his friend was lying, because I heard the truth from the horse’s mouth. Isn’t it strange how friends try to cover up for others? In this particular instance, it was more a case of making like a teflon-covered wok to his friend’s dirt.
“Before hah? You ask your contractor lah. It was he who didn’t want to take the goods. Lu bilang dia lah, angkat barang. Dia tak mau angkat barang, apa mau buat?” he said, laughing.
“Bukan dia tak mau, lu mau dia bayar you apa lagi?” I said, maintaining my grin.
“Itu lain cerita lah let’s not talk about it. He didn’t want to take the goods, he said he have to pay duty–” he went on, and I started to get pissed off.
“Pay duty to you, you mean,” I said.
“Then pay to who?” he said, this time the smile was not there, and his friend began wiping his glasses on a cheap handkerchief. I dropped my smile, and wondered if I should push more buttons. I hated the guy. The guy hated me, or at least, was annoyed that an insignificant insect could pass into his chamber of secrets and make a mess of things — it wasn’t my doing, though.
“Not 70% lah,” I said, easing into my chair. “You know they won’t accept it, we alreadywent over this so long ago liao. You can’t meet me halfway, I also can’t meet you halfway, then this whole situation goes up to KL,” his friend began taking a greater interest in cleaning his glasses, “and then what will happen?” I said.
“Then macam mana mau selesai?” he said, spreading his hands. I had thought it over on the way to see him; if I couldn’t get past his demands for “duty” to be paid, at least I’d deny him an opportunity to make money out of the deal. My boss demands that I squeeze clients’ balls, and so I did. I squeezed.
“Spot quote lor. I get other people to spot quote. You accept the difference. Fair what?” I said. He didn’t go as pale as I’d have liked, but he did lose his smile yet again. “Aiyah, susah lah,” he said.
“Takde susah lah, lu tak mau orang lain beli barang tu, lu lagi mau 70%, macam ni semua fair lah,” I smiled.
It went that way for another 15 minutes before ‘friend’ had to leave. He agreed to my solution, and was none to happy about it. I was happy about it. Fucking happy about it.
“Lu Sabtu datang, kita pegi makan hor?” he said. Yeah, motherfucker, we’ll do lunch. On your account.
