Golden Honu

My father was a powerful haggler. He would've made an excellent Bedouin. I think the Bedouins are renowned hagglers. Maybe they're not, but what, am I going to sit here and do some kind of "research?" Meh to your research! I'm a fiction writer! I make things up.

 

Anyway. Where was I?

 

Right. My dad. Haggler extraordinaire.

 

The man could haggle the price on anything, from a lump of coal to a submarine. It wasn't just hot air. I watched him do it. He had this great disinterested way of being interested in a product, this whole, "I could do you a favor and take this piece of crap out of your hands, but it'll cost you" kind of approach. And it worked. It universally worked.

 

Me, I'm okay. I did pretty well buying my car the last time, but most of the time, I'm middling at best.

 

At the Hilo Farmer's Market, I didn't have to do any haggling, because the merchant haggled on my behalf -- which is bad business, and great business all at the same time.

 

I walked up and said, "So, two necklaces for blah-blah?"

 

And she said, "I can do cheaper than blah-blah, how about blah-blah?"

 

(I say "blah-blah" not because I'm being obfuscating, but because I have a brain like a sieve and don't remember.)

 

I blinked, and was like, "Uh, sold."

 

I had to do nothing but nod and smile.

 

One of those necklaces was this, this honu (sea turtle) necklace. For my wife, obviously.

Done