A new client calls about a possible project. It feels right, like it might be a steady client.

You discuss the project, figure out what she wants. How many pages, how many shots, what’s broken, what she needs fixed. What she wants built.  It’s not so tough.

You do the figuring and thinking. It seems to come out around $1300.  Yep, $1300 is right. Considering all you have to do.  “She’ll go for that,” you say.

So you start to type the email, and you suddenly hear a whisper in your head.  “Whoa, maybe figuring three hours for changes is too much. I bet we can crank those out way faster than that.”

Good point.  You sit back, hand on chin.

What about . . .  $1100?  That’s better.  Tighter.  Yes.  $1100.

You keep typing, until you get to the $1100.

When you see that figure sitting there in 12 point Arial, it seems huge.  Those zeroes look like owl eyes.

That little voice butts in, “Um, you do realize that’s well over a thousand? Four figures?”

A scene plays in your head. The client is reading your email.  Her eyebrows arch. “$1100?  For this?  Are they freaking kidding?” she says.  (In your head.)

You cringe.

Wait a second. Didn’t she say they have a ton of work coming down the chute?

Let’s not blow it by getting too greedy right now. Let’s be cagey.

Backspace.

How about . . . ah, this is genius. . . $980.  It’s practically the same as $1100, but it’s just three figures now. Less than a grand. It’s the old ‘$9.99′ trick that retailers have used for ages.

Okay, $980 it is.  A slam dunk.  In the bank.

As you’re finishing the email, the phone rings. It’s the client.

“I don’t mean to rush you, but I need to get something submitted ASAP. They’re beating us up on budget left and right. Did you have a price worked out yet?”

Your mind races. Oh crap. Budget shrinkage. Didn’t figure on that. You see the project slipping away.

You swallow once, clear your throat.

“Sure, I was figuring, around $800.”

“Oh, wow,” the client says, “That’s great. I’ll get back to you.”

Ack.  Unforced error.  Self-inflicted discount.

I’ve been there.

Way too many times.  (And just two weeks ago, dammit.)

Don’t do this.