Dager: Handshake deal a thing of the past

Handshake deal

a thing of the past

I collect vintage clothing. My favorite era is the 1940s and '50s, so I have a natural inclination to appreciate the days when men wore snazzy fedoras and women cute little beribboned aprons. Not having actually lived through this period, I also imagine it as a time when a deal was often sealed by a handshake, which was as good as your word.

I'm not so naive as to assume people weren't ripped off by con artists in what collectors refer to as the midcentury, but I bet there were still a large number for whom integrity was how they measured themselves and their fellow human beings. I know this scale well — I was raised by parents who were salt of the earth types — never thought they were better than anyone else; strong work ethic; always doing right by others.

The difference is that today, in their '70s, they are no longer surprised when someone else isn't like that. Our era — the New Millennium, now a decade old — is one of caution: get everything in writing; trust no one; wait for the shoe to drop.

It's gotten so bad that you can't even say the word "yes" — as in, "Yes, this is Mrs. Dager" — to telemarketers over the phone because they can record your voice and have you agreeing to a contract you didn't want. Then they use your own words against you when you try to get out of it. Nice, huh?

Despite this, I still have hope, Pollyanna that I am. One of my weekly writing assignments involves asking store owners to allow me to feature items of theirs in a flier, with photos, captions and a plug for their store. That's it. No twist. No exchange of money. No shoe-dropping.

At first I couldn't believe the amount of resistance I encountered because these folks thought I was going to spring something on them. I was a little hurt, having grown up in that household of honesty, but then realized that businesspeople of today are so jaded by daily circumstance that my word just wouldn't cut it. I should have known I'd get that kind of response, but I've always thought everyone else could automatically sense my what-you-see-is-what-you-get mentality.

Silly me. How can businessowners — or homeowners or students or retirees or whoever — sense anything anymore? Our gut feelings have become unreliable.

Today's skepticism was again apparent when I made a call to a local business to ask the owner if she'd be willing to host an event for an upcoming writing project of mine. I was just being myself. What you see is what you get, or, in this case, what you hear over the phone is precisely how I am.

She was very nice, but had that slightly sad, expectant tone in her voice, as if waiting for me to hit her up for freebies. We talked a little about that, sharing anecdotes. I told her I understood her reluctance to believe, since my husband has a small business and he, too, is bombarded by requests we can't afford by fast-talkers who intentionally misrepresent themselves.

I went to her store the next day, documentation in hand to prove that I was who I said I was. I didn't mind doing it, but I don't like having to. I feel as if I have to stand up for those of us who are trying to earn a living without resorting to deception.

It's a bummer that these days you can't make a deal on a handshake because you never know what's up someone's sleeve.