“I don’t think so!” the entitled young woman angrily responded to my price on a 1940’s beautiful pink party dress.
“Well, I think so and because this is my store, I guess you will either buy it or not. Either event is alright with me.”
“This is an old dress and this is a Junkshop…” she went off but I have learned to tune this type of engagement out.
Many a young woman have tried to use me to work out the issues they have with their father. I am so not their father and I am not trying to have a workshop in experimental psychological theater.
I did want to say,”I am going to let you have the dress for only twenty bucks because based on the attire you wore today, I can see that you have no money.”
Instead, I stood my ground, “Our conversation is over, take it or leave it. This is not personal.”
The young lady thought I was being rude and began to curse me out,”How dare you… blah, blah, blah…”
I have learned to detach my emotions when listening to these young women ramble on. I imagine myself as a Mortician under these circumstances and I know that the corpse cannot really come back to life and eat my soul.
Then my savior walked in the door. A Russian woman high end vintage clothing dealer from Manhattan walked in and I knew this College girl was in for a treat.
The Russian dealer asked,”Are you selling that dress?”
“The young lady is debating whether or not she wants to purchase it. She is not sure whether twenty dollars is within her reach, or should I say her grasp of understanding.”
We stand and look at the young lady who is melting,”No, I am not buying it.”
“I take it,” the Russian dealer said. “How much?”
“Thirty-five dollars,” I said.
“Fine,” the Russian dealer said. “I keep shopping.”
The young lady turns to the Russian dealer and says,”He was going to let me have it for twenty.”
The Russian dealer turns to me, and looks at me and finally laughs and says,”He probably thought you would steal it if he said the right price of thirty five. I will buy this dress and sell it for one-twenty-five to a movie project. So, thirty five is just right.
The young lady leaves kind of teary eyed.
The Russian woman laughs,”Not so pretty in not pink.”
“You love watching these spoiled American women cry, don’t you?”