Years ago I was traveling in South Korea and at the end of the week we headed back to our headquarters in the nation’s capital of Seoul. On Sunday morning, my buddy and I decided to check out the “Taiwan” shopping district. This shopping area lies on the southern edge of Seoul, about halfway between the capital and the U.S. army base. Taiwan is a tangled maze of indoor and outdoor stores, where you can buy just about anything you want, as long as you’re not troubled by how the merchant acquired the item in question. These stores are also home to a bewildering array of fake brand items. Here you can get the fake Rolex for 10 bucks or really go upscale to the fake Cartier that goes for 30 dollars.
As we rounded a corner in the market we passed by a jewelry store and my friend decided he wanted to look at what was for sale. Because I had been to this shopping district many times in the past I knew this was a fatal error. Before he even passed through the entranceway three young Korean sales women descended on him like tigers on a zebra. These women knew the routine very well: they were young, attractive, and invitingly dressed. They also knew that it’s hard to sell something if you can’t speak the customer’s language. All three spoke virtually perfect English (and numerous other languages as well). But their skills went well beyond language. They could instantly convert the price of any item from Korean won into any currency in the world. Shoes priced in Korean won were instantly translated into pounds, dollars, francs, rubles, lira, marks, dinars, pesos, or half a dozen other currencies. They also understood international shipping, customs, duties, and taxes, and could deliver our purchases to any place on the planet. My buddy, under extreme pressure to buy something, took the coward’s way out and informed the young ladies that my wife and I were celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary in a few days. While the girls had already been high-powered, this news fired up their turbochargers. I still consider myself very lucky to have survived.
This shopping event in Korea came to mind recently as I was going into a gas station to sign a mortgage for the fuel I had just purchased. When I finally reached the front of the line I was glared at by a male cashier who was unhappy, unfriendly, unshaven and unable to speak to me in my language. He could communicate however, as he pointed to a display of chocolate bars, and grunted something that sounded like “you want”. I wasn’t sure if this was a question or a command but I assumed it to be a command and picked up 15 of the bars in order to quickly escape from the station.
Unfortunately, my car converts gasoline into fumes at record speed, so I enter a lot of gas stations. In the last few months I’ve been hassled to buy everything from gum to water, more chocolate bars, popcorn, windshield washer fluid, lighters, toasters, doughnuts, breakfast sandwiches, yogurt, breath mints, car fresheners, snow tires and a timeshare condo in Florida.
So, to service station operators everywhere, I beg you to quit pestering me about buying whatever stale-dated items you found in the storeroom last night. However, if you must continue, please tell your cashiers that a smile is better than a frown and save me the hassle of digging out my old Star Trek universal translator. Speak to me in a manner and method that I can understand.
Once Brian sells off his last 1,000 chocolate bars he’s headed to his new timeshare condo in Florida.
