Thing 163 Barter in a Shop

A book, a lighter, some Flake Away (whatever that is) and a hat. Scratch that. An awesome hat. That's what I was willing to trade.

Here's an interesting tidbit for you: According to The Walker (who's got some form of law degree - fancy fella altogether), a price tag is actually an invitation to offer in exchange for goods or services, and not necessarily a fixed demand for money. He may be lying to me, but I always trust people with law degrees. Except Token Northy. He can't be trusted. He once hid an alarm clock in my room behind the curtains and set it for half two in the morning. Frightened the bejaysus out of me. But I digress.

I may have already mentioned this, but I do love to upset the natural order of things. Not in any major anarchist way, just enough to upset the normal operation of things. Like cycling through a drive through, or in the case of Thing 163; bartering in a shop.

So in I walked to buy myself some new bed sheets. Essential stuff. I was armed with the already mentioned items. Girl at the checkout looked kind of bored. I can almost guarantee that I broke the monotony a little.

Brought the sheets to the counter, along with the plastic bag full of stuff. "I'd like to exchange this hat and this lighter for those bedsheets". Honestly, she looked at me like I'd just grown another head...

Her: "The sheets cost twenty euro..."

Me: "Alright, I'll throw in this book. It's very good. It's about drinking stories from some of Hollywood's old boys. Richard Harris is in it...."

Her: "I'm really sorry, but I can't accept those. The sheets cost twenty euro".

Me:"Sure you can. Look, I'll throw in the Flake Away as well. I don't know what it does, but I'm pretty sure it's never been used".

Side note here: What the hell is flake away? And since it's in a pink tub, I'm guessing it's some kind of lady product. What's it doing in a house occupied by four idiots who are not women? Hmmmm? Maybe The Frenchman's not telling us something...

At this point in our conversation, both the nice lady at the counter, and myself, are struggling not to laugh. She's clearly enjoying this, and I'm trying to convince her that I'm serious. It's not working. And it's sort of embarrassing. Pony Boy refused to come with me for fear of the embarrassment.

Me:"Is there anything I can give you that will entice you into giving me those bedsheets"?

Her:"Yes. Twenty euro".

Me, panicking slightly and completely mortified at this point, but still trying not to laugh: "No dice. I'm afraid I'll have to put these back then..."

Her: "Don't worry. I'll do that for you. You can leave them here".

Me: "Thanks so much. Ammmm.... eh.... Have a nice day I supppose".

Her: "You too..."

Face absolutely flaming from the embarrassment. I walked away. What I was hoping for was to kind of put her on the spot. Upset her day a little. I don't know why I wanted to do that, but that's what I was going for. What I got was a massive dose of embarrassment. Never again.