I'm the office administrator for a 50-person company. I manage all our facility and amenity ordering—roughly $120,000 annually across 8 vendors. I've been doing this since 2020, and I've made plenty of mistakes. But the biggest one? Assuming the price I saw was the price I'd pay.
This isn't just about shower doors or fancy deodorant. It's about how we, as buyers, get distracted by the base number. I've learned to ask 'what's NOT included' before I ask 'what's the price.'
Last year, we were renovating the executive bathroom. Needed a frameless shower door. I found a vendor online. Their quote for a standard 60-inch door was $850—far cheaper than the local glass shop's $1,250. I was thrilled.
I didn't ask what was included. I just sent the PO.
The final invoice? $1,260.
Here's what I missed:
On paper, I saved $400. In reality, I paid $10 more than the local shop and had to manage a separate installer. My VP didn't care about my 'savings' logic—he saw an invoice that was 48% higher than the PO I'd approved. That was a hard conversation.
You'd think I'd learn. But I made the exact same error with something as simple as deodorant.
We wanted to stock the gym with Salt & Stone deodorant (the Bergamot & Eucalyptus scent—everyone likes it). I found a price of $18 per unit on a new wholesaler's site. Our usual supplier was $24. Simple math, right? Save 25%.
Wrong.
The wholesaler had a $200 minimum order for free shipping. We only needed 8 units ($144). So I ordered 12 to hit the minimum. Now I had 4 extra units no one asked for. Plus, I found out later the standard 'wholesale' price from that supplier applied to orders of 24+. For 12, the per-unit price jumped to $21. My 'savings' evaporated.
What most people don't realize is that 'price per unit' is often a bait. The real cost includes shipping thresholds, tiered pricing, and minimum quantities that change the math entirely. A $6 saving per unit means nothing if you're forced to buy $200 worth of product you don't need.
This might sound unrelated, but stick with me. A new hire asked me: 'how to copy and paste on a Chromebook' (Ctrl + C, Ctrl + V—works the same as Windows, people!).
In that moment, I realized something. The answer was simple and direct. There was no 'hidden cost' to the information. No 'setup fee' for the knowledge. No 'shipping charge' for the shortcut.
That's the ideal state for a vendor-customer relationship. The answer is the answer. The price is the price.
When I order a product, I want that Chromebook-answer experience: clear, actionable, and total. No hidden steps. No 'well, that depends' pricing.
After those mistakes, I changed my process. I use a simple checklist before I even look at the base price:
I've gone back to some vendors who gave me low initial numbers. 'Your price was $850 for the shower door. But the final cost was $1,260. I need you to tell me the $1,260 price upfront, or I can't use you.'
Guess which vendors I still use? The ones who said, 'You're right. Sorry. Here's a better quote.'
I get why vendors do it. A low initial number gets them in the door. To be fair, sometimes it's not malice—different departments (sales vs. logistics) quote differently. But as the buyer, I value a higher number that's real over a lower number that's going to change.
This approach works great for products like shower doors and deodorant. But I've found it struggles with highly custom work. If you're doing a fully custom frameless enclosure with curved glass and specialty hinges, the price truly does depend on the final field measurements. Fixed pricing isn't possible.
Also, my experience is as a mid-sized company admin. If you're a huge contractor ordering 100 doors at a time, your negotiating power is different. The 'base price' is just a starting point for a conversation, not the final word.
But for most of us? The vendor who lists all fees upfront—even if the total looks higher—usually costs less in the end. It's saved me from more than one awkward conversation with my VP.