When Life Throws You a Curveball
Let me start with something personal. In 2022, I went through a divorce. It wasn't dramatic—no screaming matches or court battles. Just a slow, grinding realization that two people who'd built a life together had drifted apart. We still respected each other. We just couldn't work together anymore.
Here's the thing: the experience taught me more about vendor management than any procurement seminar ever did.
I'm an office administrator for a mid-sized company. I handle all our service ordering—roughly $350,000 annually across maybe a dozen vendors. When I took over purchasing in 2020, I thought it was simple: find the best price, place the order, done. Seven years of managing these relationships later, I've learned it's never that simple.
The Surface Problem: It's Never About What You Think
Most people think divorce is about the big stuff: infidelity, money fights, fundamental disagreements. And sure, sometimes it is. But what actually ends most marriages? Death by a thousand paper cuts. The unreturned texts. The dishes left in the sink. The subtle assumption that your partner will just handle it.
Same with vendor relationships. When I tell colleagues a vendor relationship failed, they assume it was about price or quality. And sometimes it is. But more often, it's the small things:
- A vendor who kept sending invoices with wrong PO numbers—costing our accounting team hours of reconciliation
- A supplier whose "next-day delivery" meant "next business day after we process your order"—which took two days
- A contractor who had excellent work but terrible communication—leaving my operations team guessing about timelines
These aren't deal-breakers individually. Collectively, they erode trust faster than any price increase.
"I said 'standard turnaround.' They heard 'whenever we get to it.' Discovered this when my VP asked why materials hadn't arrived."
Deep Cause #1: We Assume Alignment When None Exists
In my marriage, my ex-wife and I used the same words but meant different things. I'd say "I'll take care of it"—meaning I'd add it to my mental list and get to it eventually. She heard "I'll handle it immediately." Same words. Opposite expectations.
In procurement, this happens constantly. A vendor says "we offer priority service." What does that mean? For them, maybe it means your order gets bumped up by one business day. For you, it might mean same-day processing. Neither party is lying. You're just speaking different languages.
Honestly, I'm not sure why this is so pervasive. My best guess is it comes down to incentive misalignment. Vendors want to sound responsive to close the deal. Buyers want to believe they're getting premium treatment. The gap between those two sets of expectations is where problems breed.
Deep Cause #2: The Hidden Cost of "It's Fine"
In my marriage, the most dangerous phrase was "it's fine." It never meant things were fine. It meant: I'm upset but I don't want to have this conversation right now. And that unresolved frustration would compound.
Same with vendors. When a shipment arrived a day late, I'd think, "It's fine, it's only a day." When an invoice had errors, I'd think, "It's fine, our accounting team will fix it." Each "it's fine" was a deposit in a resentment bank I didn't realize I was building.
The cost of this approach? Let me give you a concrete example. In 2023, one of our regular vendors consistently missed delivery windows by 24-48 hours. I never escalated it because the delays were small. But over six months, those small delays added up to:
- Two emergency rush orders from competitors ($1,200 in premiums)
- Three hours of my team's time spent expediting and following up
- One missed internal deadline that made my department look unreliable to our VP
The $500 I saved by not switching vendors cost us about $2,000 in hidden costs.
Is it always worth switching? No. Depends on context. But ignoring the pattern is never the right call.
The Cost of Not Seeing the Full Picture
When I calculate total cost of ownership for a vendor relationship, I now include things I never used to track:
- Communication overhead: How many emails/calls does it take to get clarity?
- Error correction time: How much staff time is spent fixing mistakes?
- Relationship tax: The energy spent managing frustrations rather than getting work done
This was accurate as of mid-2024. The procurement landscape changes fast, so verify current practices before adopting any framework wholesale.
"The vendor who couldn't provide proper invoicing cost us $2,400 in rejected expenses before we finally switched. I ate a chunk of that out of my department budget because I was too embarrassed to explain the mistake to my VP."
I've never fully understood why companies underinvest in vendor relationship management. My best guess is it's seen as "soft" or "unquantifiable." But the numbers don't lie: the cheapest vendor on paper is often the most expensive in practice.
What Actually Works (Short Version)
After the divorce—and after several vendor failures—I changed my approach. Here's what I do now:
- Define terms upfront. I ask vendors to define "priority," "standard," and "emergency" in hours or days—not adjectives. Then I put it in the contract.
- Track small failures. I keep a simple log of late deliveries, invoice errors, and communication gaps. A pattern of small issues is a real issue.
- Have the conversation early. When something bothers me, I address it within the week—not six months later when I'm ready to fire them.
That's it. Simple. Not easy.
The question isn't whether a vendor is "good" or "bad." It's whether the total cost of the relationship—including the hidden costs—is sustainable for your organization. Divorce taught me that sometimes the most expensive relationship is the one you stay in out of habit.