This is not my proudest moment. I'm not one to shake my a** to get a free drink at the bar; I'm not even a good flirt (I never really got the "hair toss" down.) But apparently, I'll use my feminine wiles to try and save a hundred bucks.
I recently bought a car, and anyone who knows NYC knows that parking in this fine city is a pain.The only way to deal with being a full-time, car-owning resident whose life doesn't revolve around parking rules is to rent a spot in a garage. And garages are expensive! Last week I called around to find one that wouldn't cost more than most people's rent (trickier than you might think!), and many of the people I spoke to said it would be better to negotiate in person. So I did what I rarely, if ever, do: I slipped into a tight pair of jeans, propped up my boobs, put on makeup and turned on the charm—all in order to save some cash.
It worked. Kinda. I didn't save a hundred bucks, but I was able to soften the stern and not-so-friendly manager into cutting me a deal. On the phone, he mentioned that there was a waiting list and that most likely he wouldn't have anything for me. Then I showed up and he changed his story. Safe to say, I walked away with a space, but I felt a little strange. Part of me knows this dynamic is just the way of the world, but another part of me felt gross for manipulating the situation by acting "girly."
What do you think?
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