The Handshake Deal (And Why It Always Costs You Money)

Ray and I shook hands in his driveway on a Tuesday.

It was a good handshake. Firm. Eye contact. The kind of handshake that feels like a contract because both people want it to feel like a contract so nobody has to do any paperwork.

Six weeks later, Ray and I were having a very different conversation in that same driveway. Same concrete. Completely different energy.

What Ray Remembered

Ray remembered that the job included the side gate.

Ray was certain about the side gate. Ray had a clear memory of standing in his driveway on a Tuesday and hearing me say the words "side gate." Ray's wife also remembered the side gate, which meant I was now outnumbered in a factual dispute about something that happened six weeks ago in a driveway.

What I Remembered

I did not say the side gate.

I was also certain. I remembered standing in that same driveway thinking the side gate was rotted through and would be a separate conversation. I remembered looking at it. I remembered deciding not to bring it up because the price was already at the top of what I thought Ray would pay.

I did not write any of this down.

The Problem With Two Certain People

When two people are both certain and both wrong is not an option, somebody is lying and somebody is misremembering and neither of them can prove which is which.

In this situation, the contractor always loses.

Not because contractors are dishonest. Not because clients are dishonest. Because the client is standing in front of their own house looking at a gate that still needs work and the contractor is standing in someone else's driveway trying to remember a conversation from six weeks ago.

Memory is not a contract. Memory is a story you tell yourself that gets better or worse depending on how much money is involved.

The Scope Creep Timeline

Here is how every handshake deal ends up costing you money, in order:

Week one: Job starts. Everybody is friendly. Ray brings you a coffee.

Week two: Ray mentions the gate casually. You say that's not in the scope. Ray says he thought it was. You both let it go because the job is going well and nobody wants to be the one who makes it weird.

Week three: Ray mentions the gate again. Less casually. You say again that it's not in the scope. Ray says he's pretty sure it was discussed. You are now both sure of opposite things.

Week four: Job finishes. Invoice goes out. Ray pays minus the amount he's mentally assigned to the gate, which is less than it would actually cost to fix the gate but more than zero.

Week five: You either eat the difference, fix the gate for free, or have a real argument with a client who used to bring you coffee.

Week six: Ray gives you four stars because the work was great but there was "a misunderstanding about the scope."

Four stars. For work that was five-star work. Because of a gate and a handshake.

What a Scope of Work Actually Does

It is not about trust. Ray is probably a good guy. Most clients are good people.

It is about memory. Specifically, it is about replacing two people's memories with one document that neither of them can misremember.

"Side gate: not included in this scope. To be quoted separately if desired."

One sentence. Eleven words. Would have saved the gate, the four-star review, and whatever portion of the final invoice Ray decided he didn't owe.

The Other Thing It Does

A scope of work also protects the client.

Ray hired you to do a job. He deserves to know exactly what that job is before it starts. If he wants the gate included, he should have the chance to say so before week three, not after. A written scope is fair to everybody. It is not a sign that you don't trust each other. It is a sign that you both want to finish the job the same way you started it.

Ray and I Are Fine

We worked it out. I fixed the gate at cost because I liked Ray and I wanted the five-star review and I had no paperwork to stand on.

Ray left a good review. He mentioned that I went above and beyond on the gate.

He was not wrong. I did go above and beyond on the gate. I went above and beyond on the gate because I shook hands in a driveway instead of sending a document.

Next job I did for Ray, I sent a scope of work before I started.

Ray signed it from his phone before I finished loading my truck.

No coffee that time. But no conversation about the gate either.

I'll take it.