Aging and the Art of Bartering

Craig and I were out doing a little shopping before we left for our trek in Nepal. We were in need of a few things. Sunscreen, a warm fleece, a new headlamp, and a water bottle, seeing as I left mine in Cambodia. Craig had located our goods and had been in the process of negotiating a price for quite a while. Now the shop owner was quite pleasant and things were progressing nicely. I’m not sure that’s quite accurate, seeing as it often just comes down to a waiting game and seeing who will give in first. Anyways, the owner’s friend decides it’s also time for him to get involved and say his piece. But it was to the owner’s detriment.
His first question to me was “Are you mother & son?”
WHAT????

Really, now, how OLD do I look? Or better yet, how YOUNG does Craig look? I know sometimes he drops a couple of years when he’s clean-shaven, but that wasn’t the case today. The guy proceeded to ramble on about it, saying I looked like I could be his mother, and I am old enough to be his mother, blah, blah, blah. He settled on telling me that I look like I’m 36. I aged 8 years in that store. I’m not sure why 36 but apparently, this is the age that is old enough to be the mother of Craig. I told the owner that I was insulted so he had to give us a discount on the purchase. In the end I think I saved us 200 rupees, which is about $3.50. Not near enough for the amount my pride was bruised. I guess it’s time to stock up on that anti-wrinkle cream!

~R