Tonight, buying mangoes, I asked the guy if he would lower the price if I bought two (this usually works), and he just smirked at me and said, “No, what I want is for you to try this sample so you’ll know how sweet these mangoes are. They are so sweet I eat them all the time!”
So I just laughed and didn’t bargain with him, which maybe was silly, but I told myself, well, he had such an entrepeneuring spirit! 10 ksh, who cares.
Still I will probably keep going back to the woman who doesn’t charge me as much. But this guy reminded me, a little fondly, of my mango guy in Zanzibar, though I didn’t buy fruit there as often. He sold mangoes on this embankment near the church and between the market, and if I even tried to bargain with him, he would cross his arms over his chest and just walk away. He didn’t make a face or anything since his face was already always really sour. Sometimes walking past, I would just wave at him and it was like he couldn’t have been more confused, though endearingly. But I advertised his mangoes–they were really good–just warning people, he won’t bargain with you, at all, not even a little bit, which kind of made me feel like his mangoes were the best.