Shopping in India

I start to break out in hives right after Thanksgiving, and the welts don't settle down until New Years. The reaction starts whenever I am within a quarter mile of a major shopping mall. You can imagine the zeal with which I undertook my first shopping trip in India. The driver was used to dealing with Americans, and had it all planned out. He told me he'd take me to three stores. I wasn't to buy anything at any of them until I'd seen all three and compared the pricing and merchandise. Then, we'd go back to the one I wanted to buy from, and he'd help me deal with any bargaining if I wanted.

Each place was some variation on the "cottage crafts" theme. Each had guards at the front and wolf-like salespeople waiting at the door. Whoever draws the long straw tracks you throughout the store, explaining everything, trying to get you to decide on things. You're encouraged to sit down while they serve tea and bring things to you. When you warn them you won't be buying anything, they get a hurt look on their face, like you've personally insulted their mother or their integrity. They all seemed to have similar mixtures of carpets, silk, crafts, and jewelry. All offered a Sunday discount right up front, with hints of more. Saying "No" is very difficult. At the place I finally bought stuff, they pulled the old car salesman routine of "I can make you an offer to get you to buy right now, but I need to consult with my manager." Oh well. I am done. Time to take the antihistimine to get the hives under control.