We were having a beautiful experience traveling through Spain; learning its history, enjoying its exquisite scenery, and living the lives of jet-setters. Everyone we met was friendly, welcoming and pleasant…
Until we came upon her: an elderly local woman carrying a basket full of crocheted shawls. All I had to do was make initial eye contact with her and I knew I had lost the sales battle.
She earmarked me as a prospective customer, and nothing I could do could save me from those persistent eyes. She started following me across the church patio, holding up a shawl and arranging her face to show a pleading expression.
“Twenty five dollars,” she begged.
No, I said, walking away. But she persisted, following me across the plaza.
“Look. Beautiful,” she said, as she wrapped the shawl around my shoulders. “$25.00.”
I felt trapped. Why does’t she bother another of the hundreds of tourists: why me?
Bargain with her, my inner voice coaxed. Don’t agree to the first price she offers.
Is it hand made? I asked. She held up her hands and pointed to her arthritic old fingers, signaling that she crocheted every stitch by hand. Along with the hand-showing she put on a pathetically sad, overworked, exhausted expression.
Poor old thing, I commiserated. She looks at my life, a traveling tourist able to afford the luxury of leaving my country to explore hers, while she labors away stitching these shawls. She probably sews in a room with poor light and uncomfortable back-breaking chairs. I’ll bet she lives with her family, including a bunch of small children whom she helps support. How can I haggle with her for a miserable few dollars?
I could always use a hand crocheted black shawl, I told myself convincingly. So I gave in to my conscience and my guilt and paid her the full price she asked. I tucked my new purchase into the traveling bag and joined my husband and our friends for a tour of the church.
Later that afternoon on the way back to the hotel, we passed a shop in town filled with local souvenirs.
There on display was a counter filled with identical shawls to the one I had just bought. Each shawl was enclosed in an individual plastic bag, indicating that it was factory made, not home sewn. On closer inspection I saw a small tag saying, “Made in China.”
The store was selling them for $15.00 apiece.
MorristownMemos 
Comments on: "SALES RESISTANCE" (13)
I think we have all of us fell prey at one time or another to the super sales techniques of these amazing Spanish ladies… I fell pray in Barcelona 😉 for a spray of flowers 🙂
You in Spain….., me in Mexico !!!!! It happens to all of us eventually ! 🙂
Si, senor! Yo comprendo.
Think of it this way. If you’d bought it in the store for $15, you wouldn’t have had the story to go along with it 🙂
…and the story is worth more that $15, right?
Absolutely 🙂
I’m sure the shawl is lovely and you’ll use it… no matter that you may have been a bit conned.
Lisa, the funny thing is what triggered this story was finding the shawl in a dresser drawer, where it has rested but never been used.
You have probably learned a lesson and will not be so sympathetic the next time. But then, they might send a barefoot child with ragged clothes to charm you. People will be people no matter where you are.
So perhaps I need a vacation where no people are around…
Then I’m a goner; I’d be a sucker all over again.
Terrific
definitely worth “spreading the word
Harvey
I’ll write, you spread!