The Chronicles of Venice, Part VII – Haggling Is The Same Everywhere…And I Don’t Have The Heart For It Anywhere

These guys (as many of them all around the world) were very adamant that they never, ever be photographed. Which is understandable, since I’m pretty sure their life’s work is more or less illegal…everywhere. How do they even make money? How do they even – never mind, this is a different blog altogether. Anyway. I remember I really wanted to take a picture of these guys just because I couldn’t. Because y’kno. I’m a rebel like that.

Well he was clearly in the middle of packing up his stuff – I think someone was coming or something, so I took a quick snap “of the scenery behind him”. This wasn’t the point of the story, though – I don’t know if this’ll turn up later so I’ll just tell it here. I had my Lumix with me at the time but no tripod, even though I had ordered one in London. It was just too big to lug around – it would’ve taken up half the space in my tiny little suitcase. Which I miss dearly, by the way. Why don’t Americans ever sell tiny little suitcases like that?

Right, because a pair of obese American jeans would take up the whole thing. Meh

So I was on the lookout for a little tripod so I could balance my Lumix on something and take pictures at night. All throughout my travels I had seen these people selling little tiny (crappy) tripods. In Rome they were 10 Euro, and in Milan they were 7. I wasn’t about to pay that much for any of them. So one night when I saw them in Venice, I went to ask the guy how much.

“20 Euro”, he says.

I actually laughed (unintentionally) and said “Ok thanks” and walked away. He called me back, though, and as usual asked how much I wanted it for. I looked him straight in the eye and said “3 Euro.”

And of course it’s HIS turn to laugh now, laugh with all his buddies. And I mean at this point the conversation could go one of two ways – my mom usually chooses the angrier route, but I just kind of laughed with him and said that it was fine, I was just playing around and that I didn’t really need a tripod anyway. And to have a good day. And then Allen and I walked away…or started to.

He calls me back, laughing, and we start up a conversation – where are we  from, where have we been, etc etc. And then he goes, “You are Chinese, yes?” And I tell him I am. And then he laughs, looks at his buddies and goes, “3 Euro. Ok.”

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