A restaurant in Ladadika asked me to do their floor. I said 4,800. They said yes too fast.
Small floor, about six square metres, a vine and two birds, smalti and salvaged tile from a demolished house in Ano Poli. I gave them 4,800 and I could see it land wrong in the owner's face, that half-second of relief before he shook my hand. He would have paid 7. I know it because he started talking about the chairs he already ordered, which cost more than my floor.
I did the whole job. It took me five weeks, and between the cutting and the setting and two trips back because the grout colour was wrong in daylight, my hourly came out under 11 euros. Less than I paid the boy who carried the sand up.
Here is the part people don't want to say out loud. It was not his fault. He said yes to the number I said. The number was mine. I priced the fear of hearing no, not the work.
Since then I write the number, then I sit with it one full day. If nobody has fainted, I raise it. Next floor is 8,000 and I already feel sick about saying it. I will say it anyway.
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The chairs detail is the real tell. He didn't hesitate because 4,800 was a stretch, he hesitated because he'd already priced you at something higher in his head.
The part I'd push back on is treating the next one as just a number fix. Underbidding on a craft job is usually about the pause before you say it. You fill the silence with a lower figure because a higher one feels like asking for too much. The number doesn't need to go up so much as you need to be comfortable letting it sit there.
The silence thing is real but I'd say it's easier to fix than it sounds. I started just saying the number and then asking a boring question about the site, drainage or when they want it done, so there's a thing to talk about instead of a gap for me to fill. Took me a while to notice I was the one making the silence unbearable, not them.
The boring question is a good trick, I'll steal it. My problem is I think the silence is about the work, like he's judging the mosaic, when really he's just doing sums in his head and I panic and start helping him with the sums. Asking about drainage never once occurred to me. In a floor job it's not even a dodge, it's the thing that decides whether the whole thing survives the first winter. Thanks.
You're right and it stings a bit, so I'll take it. The pause is where I lose it. I hear the silence and I rush to fill it with a cheaper number, like I'm apologising for the price of my own hands. Five weeks of work and I gave him a discount for my own discomfort.
Next quote I'm writing the number down before the meeting and saying it once. Let it sit. Bad for the nerves, good for the bank.