wandering, wondering

I could sense her watching me as I looked around the store – a 5x8-ft space in a stretch of shops separated by blankets. It was past 7:00 pm, yet the place was alive, humming an orchestra of voices, footsteps, sizzling fryers, and whirring fans. The air reeked of sweat, plastic, and curiosity.

I checked the gewgaws on display. Buddha beads, charms, Disneyland souvenirs, and colorful baubles. On the wall, t-shirts hung like paintings.

Among the clichéd dragon and calligraphy prints, I found an I *heart* HK shirt. The novelty attracted me despite the shirt’s not-so-regal quality. There were no price tags so I braced myself for the moment of truth.

One deep breath. “This is it,” I thought. “Let's do this.”

Holding the t-shirt like a trophy, I turned to the lady and asked, “How much?”

Her then-stern face lit up. She was amiable, but I was a man on a mission.

“25 dollar,” she said. “For you, very cheap.” She was smiling.

She made her move. I remembered the tricks taught to me. “Don’t give in. Feign disinterest.”

The shirt was too small for me, I told her. As I put them down she waved her hands on my face. “No no no, many sizes.”

She rummaged through the boxes beneath a makeshift counter and unearthed shirts wrapped in plastic. They still have that factory-fresh scent.

“How much for four?”

“100.” Not even a dollar less.

“70?” I countered, keeping a stonecold serious mug.

“No, 90. Last price.”

“80.” My last offer. She shook her head.

Time for the trump card. “No, thank you.” I returned the shirt, turned around and made my exit in one fluid move, something I rehearsed many times.

Before I could walk, she yanked my arm. The trick worked.

“20 dollar, one shirt. Yes?”

Amidst the medley of urban smell, I sensed victory.

A quick mental calculation. I converted the price to my local currency. Not bad.

“100 dollars for six shirts,” I said firmly, hoping not to make a rookie mistake until the deal is done.

“Yes, good. You buy.”

I smiled and relished my fleeting first win.

I took out my wallet and saw a few bills inside. I thought of my friends who were probably going crazy looking for designer shoes in the shopping district of Mongkok. I remembered how my view of Hong Kong as too commercial and expensive for my frugal sensibilities drove me to find this place. Here, I discovered a side of HK where I could get more with what humble amount I had (with a little haggling, of course).

The stuff may not cost much, but the experience was priceless.