The 101 Experience

Now, I'm very sure that everybody knows about the standard methods by which spas / slimming centres / beauty parlours preserve the longevity of their business:  Offer a freebie or an irresistable offer to (lure) a brand new customer and when they are physically turn up to do a trial / redeem their gifts, do the following in this order:

1. Use as many bombastic equipment and bombastic words to analyse and tell them how bad their current situation is. 

2. Offer them a solution at sky-high prices.

3. Make them feel darn lucky by offering a first-timer discount that can only be redeemed on the day itself.

4. Watch them take up the bait.

5. When they take too long to decide, throw in an offer of either payment in installments or an alternative cheaper package.

Thanks to my doting mother, who recently bought a trial session of scalp care treatment at Beijing 101 (because she thinks my hair is too dry), I had the chance to 'venture' into this 'battlefield'.  But what can I say? She did this out of love and didn't know what was to come, right?  So I heaved a sigh, said 'alright', and tried to block out the knowing that a drama was about to unfold.  

For a split second, I imagined myself taking mum's hand, chionging into a battlefield with her, dodging all the grenades, bullets and bombs (not forgetting doing some leopard crawls and ROFs on the dusty ground along the way), shooting back at the enemy ala John Woo movies, and then finally making it all the way through to the other end safely, with her and my head (I mean wallet) intact

When it comes to this kind of battle, trust me, its chicken feet for a seasoned soldier like me.  I've been through this a few times before and managed to escape unscathed.  有什么好怕的? *thumps chest*

So, off we trotted into the outlet at Bedok Point on Tuesday night.

Just as I expected, we were both asked to fill in our particulars and a questionaire.  I paused thoughtfully at the 'contact number' field, and wrote my home number (which I never answer) on the form.  Both our forms.  Though we stayed at different addresses. *grin*

We were led into a room where a consultant did the usual, scanning our scalps and analyzing the situation for us.  And it seems, this particular consultant went a step ahead:  Without even us doing the trial (which my mum paid for, mind you), she actually started telling us that they have this and that package which costs $XXXX for 10 sessions and then kept quiet and looked at us, expecting us to make a decision there and then.

I was quite upset that she expected us to decide without even trying.  So as 坦白-ly as I could, I told her: ‘我们都还没有try, 哪里知道好不好? 那里可以现在做决定？'

I caught a tinge of buey song-ness as she replied: '好，我给你try先'.

We were brought into the heart of the operations where the trial treatment began.  The consultant in question served my mum, while I was served by another lady.  I noted that though the first part of the treatment required the gunk to be left on our scalp for at least 20 mins, the consultant who spoke to us washed it off my mum's hair after only 15.  The consultant serving me, though, was really sweet.  She did every step carefully and bothered to explain each step.  Without my prompting, she even taught me how to gently wash my hair.  She even took care to blow-dry the dry ends of my hair with cool air to avoid damaging it further, which we all know, would have taken twice as long to dry.  This lady to me, was not just serving for the sake of selling.  She was serving with heart.. the kind of service that would make a customer return.

Alas, the comfort ended there.  At the end of the treatment, we were rounded up into the 'interrogation' room again and our scalps scanned for comparison.  I noticed that she was comparing a different spot from the 'dandruff problem' which she highlighted in the beginning and asked her to go back to that area so we could have a look.  Just as suspected, the dandruff was still there. But in slightly lesser amounts (which should be natural after any shampooing session right?).

After the scanning, the sales pitch begins again. We were pressured to sign a package with them on the spot because we were oh-so-privileged to get this price as a first time customer and we were promised that we will not get this price if we return another day to sign.  When I remained unmoved, she switched to another tactic: Cheaper package.  Much to the amusement of my mother, I still didn't budge and gave her a whole lot of reasoning why I need to discuss with my husband because I respect him (Yes, marriage is a life-saver).  In the end, in the final effort, she asked if we wanted to buy their shampoo.  Which I didn't really mind partly because she really tried very hard to sell, and partly because of the other consultant who was really nice to me.

As we stepped out of the salon with fresh, tingling scalp, 2 bottles of shampoo and 2 boxes of complimentary american ginseng tea (1st timer gifts), I asked my mum if I was being to fierce to the sales consultant just now.

Her answer? "Err... 你很难商量啦..."

I gave her a satisfied smile and myself a pat on the back.  

We used a teeeeny fraction of the 'money we saved' on Japanese Ramen and Gong-Cha to celebrate our 凯旋归来.