A stack of hand tinted engravings laid at the bottom of a trunk. I bent down, scooped them up and asked, "How much?"
The dealer spent the next ten minutes counting them. When that happens it usually means the price is not going to be as good as I hoped. He went on to tell me what they were (tint samples for prints), how hard they were to find and what a good eye I had. Flattery doesn't work on me, nor assuming I do not know, or that I am a tourist who speaks French with an accent.
I offered him half.
He tried to convince me to pay more.
I put the engravings down and walked away.
The dealer said to French Husband, "She is tough."
French Husband shrugged. Then walked over to me and winked, "The dealer thinks your tough. If only he knew."
I shrugged, thinking to myself, "I am tougher when I really want something."
Later the dealer ran up to me, "Okay, I except your offer. You are tough aren't you?"
As I was in a mood I said, "Tough would have asked you to give them to me for free."
The dealer laughed nervously, wondering if I was serious or not.
To add to the fun I said, "So since I have a reputation as being tough, what are you going to give me as a gift since I am buying all of them?"
He really laughed.
Though I gave a sheepish smile, and stayed my ground.
He asked, "You are serious aren't you?"
"Of course I am." I said, as I looked around his stand for a gift.
He put his arm on my shoulder, "What about a kiss as a gift?"
"I like old things better." I teased.
He said, "I am older than you does that count?"
"Nope. It doesn't."
He shook his head and sighed, "Tough."
"I pointed to some old platters." And asked, "How about one of those?"
"Oh la la! A platter no less. Not a button, or a piece of lace, nor a book... but a platter no less!"
"How about two and a kiss?"
French Husband shook his head.
I love the art of negotiating.
I love my platters.
The winners of an tinted engraving are:
Please send me your addresses by email and I will send you an engraving.