I Just Saved You $46,900 Excl. Taxes, or Have I Actually?

Someday soon, you will be arriving at an airport in Central America.

Your 9-5 job has exhausted you and an escape began to form in your mind. Months or years of saving has left a hefty sum in your pocket and now is the time to splurge on the one thing on your mind: your feet digging in soft, pearly-white sand. An ocean breeze blows your hair back and just as you exhale and think of how grateful you are to simply be alive... a handsome man in a uniform brings you a colorful, fruity cocktail. Alternatively, a cute woman with the prettiest eyes and most intoxicating smile arrives with a stack of neatly-folded towels. A towel is handed to you as she says "Buenos días," in an accent oh-so-sweet, you imagine crossing paths later that day, only to propel yourself in a holiday-fling with her. Bottom-line: you feel acknowledged. "This is bliss."

WELCOME TO PARADISE!

...

NOW COMETH THE SHARK IN STILL WATERS

Often, though, foul play contaminates Paradise. It's covered up.

See, upon landing, you were targeted by the local tourism industry. In some places, tourism has crept into the very fabric of the region.

Charming, attractive Street Teams are unleashed in the dozens to tempt individuals and families to partake in a sales presentation. As you wander through the airport, they have seconds to sift through hundreds of people. Whom will they approach with their product? A 45-minute* Sales Presentation at a jaw-dropping 5* resort. Discounts for excursions are also given upon completion of the presentation (a.k.a. "tours").

During the tour, a buffet-style breakfast is offered. It's on-the-house.

Around the corner are the resort's bedrooms. The Salesperson steps up a gear—asking all the relevant questions to ensure that you sign on the line which is dotted. He/she starts to fire up your desire to become a member—to *own* the rooms for a week or two in the year. Among other things.

Prices are finally mentioned. It is less than you expected. It's affordable.

The Salesperson guides you to the last location of the tour—

The Shark Tank.

It's an expansive room. At least a hundred tables are scattered, each with a briefcase or purse, some ice-cold glasses of water, and two hotel and resort catalogs.

A large team of clever coordinators are ready, having memorized the salesmen and saleswomen like the back of their hands: They know John. They know Ly-Ann. They even know Harry! As the Salesperson approaches the room, a coordinator points them to their assigned seat, where their bags and catalogs await.

Details are discussed and the Salesperson subtly answers the client's initial concern: "What's in it for me?"

You've been pulled in. You're invested. The Salesperson sits back.

"Well?" you say."Well ... what?" the salesperson answers."How much?""Oh, right ... it's—"

You know the price. I've left it in the title, I probably shouldn't have.

WRONG.

WRONG.

WRONG.

It's actually $69,900 excluding taxes. In that moment, you lose all rapport with the Salesperson. He is no longer a person, just a deluded soul.

"What?! What are you, insane? I can't afford this.""Oh, I'm sorry, I thought--""No way. Can I go now?""I'm sorry. I'll get you outta here. Let me just call my manager, he'll be able to get you outta here and back to your hotel. Just a minute."

Then... without going into specifics. The manager discovers a better deal.

He offers a lower price, say, $46,900, and a bigger room with ocean-view.

You shake your head. It's still a "No."

"How about $35,900? Same room. One week.""Okay, fine, $24,600. Same room. Two weeks."

You refuse. You could punch the Salesperson. Your blood starts boiling.

The manager leaves, and is replaced by yet another manager. He declares:

"$13,500. An even bigger room. Ocean-view. Jacuzzi. Two weeks.""No ... ?"

The manager can't believe it. He leaves. You sit there with the Salesperson, who has the most surprised look on their face. Eyes and mouth wide-open. They've *never* seen something like this.

Then, the inevitable. The Salesperson, who's always been on your side, throws in the towel:

"I can try for $8,000. Never been so low before. All or nothing—let's ask for the biggest room... and for the maximum amount of time. Four weeks. A whole month of holiday. Fully-decked kitchen. Sauna. Jacuzzi. The lot."

You feel bad, so you agree. It's the end of the road, why not give it a shot?

The manager returns to congratulate you—it's feasible. They can do it. They're losing thousands of dollars, but they're willing to do it for you.

The ball is in your court.

You need to sleep on it.

You can't.

Today only.

...

...

...

So ... VISA, MasterCard, or American Express?