The Cost of A Better Deal

On Trust, Honesty, and Maximizing

My housing contract was ending, so I started searching for a new place. Every day I refreshed the website of a particular rental agency, hoping something would appear. One afternoon at work, a colleague told me, “Amir, there’s an available unit with that agency.” I jumped on it immediately.

The unit was between Delft and The Hague. Honestly, I didn’t like the neighborhood; it didn’t feel like “me.” Delft sits between two bigger cities: Rotterdam to the south, and The Hague to the north. Personally, I’ve always preferred Rotterdam. It feels alive, bars and cafés open late, long buildings, modern energy. Walking there in nice clothes, surrounded by professionals in suits and women in formal or elegant dresses, makes me feel powerful, as if I’m part of a world-class city. The Hague, on the other hand, has more of a calm, traditional Dutch vibe, with low houses and a slower pace. Beautiful, but not my style.

Still, I took the unit near The Hague. One of my friends lived in that same complex, so I asked if I could visit her place. She and her boyfriend had made it livable. The apartments came bare, without paint, furniture, or even flooring. They reassured me: “Don’t worry, we’ll tell you what to do.” I liked the living room, the bedroom was small but fine, and the shopping center across the street made life easier. However, the kitchen barely had two cabinets. At the end, I signed the contract, I was thinking it is not easy to find a place in the Netherlands, and this is not my dream house but it’s good enough.

Then came the hunt for furniture. I browsed Marktplaats, the Dutch second-hand site, messaging sellers about dining tables, wardrobes, and sofas. I loved one dining table, but it cost €700, which was way over my budget. I offered €450, but the seller refused. Later, I found another table for €300. The seller was kind, agreed to my offer, and even reserved it for me without a deposit.

Weeks passed. Just days before picking up my new keys, I checked the rental site again, out of habit. Suddenly, I saw a new unit in Rotterdam. Without thinking, I booked it. But the agency rejected me: I had already signed the other contract. My maximizer side said, waiting maybe was a better idea instead of hurrying.

Back to furniture hunting. The €700 table seller messaged me again: “The other buyer canceled. Do you still want it for €550?” I knew it was out of my budget, but I also knew I had the cheaper table reserved. That gave me confidence. I bargained hard, and eventually got a good deal, including delivery. Part of me was proud. Another part whispered: But you betrayed the first seller’s trust.

I hated that thought. The first seller had trusted me enough to reserve the table. Now I had to break my promise. I even tried finding someone else to buy it so he wouldn’t be left empty-handed. But in the end, I sent him a short message:

“Sorry, I’ve changed my plan and won’t buy the table. I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

His reply stung:

“It’s my fault for trusting you. Your way of doing business is messed up.”

He was a bit right. I had maximized my gain, but at the cost of someone else’s trust. That night I lay awake, replaying the whole thing. Was it worth it? Did I really need a slightly better table if it meant breaking my word? Why hadn’t I been upfront that I had another deal?

Part of me believes that in this world, everyone looks out for their own interests, so I should too. I’ve seen it in dating as well: when someone disappears with excuses, but really they’ve found someone else. But this time I’d like to be on the other side!! People who get hurt often end up hurting others the same way. Maybe I was just doing what everyone else does.

But another part of me doesn’t want to live like that. I even offered the first seller €50 as compensation, though he never replied.

The next day, I thought: I could have lied to make it easier, said the table didn’t fit in my new apartment. That might have softened the blow. But I chose blunt honesty, and maybe that was worse.

I know the whole story isn’t a huge deal. The seller will find another buyer soon enough. But for me, it raised bigger questions about the philosophy of my choices, and the way I live.

So I’m stuck with this question:

Is it better to be political, seductive, and a little manipulative so you reach your goals without burning bridges? Or is it better to be genuine, even if that means losing out when others don’t keep their promises?

Because right now, I think I ended up with the worst combination: being both a maximizer and honest. You get the benefit, but you hurt people along the way. And in the end, I’m still unsure which path I want to follow.