How Much!

"Hello Madame - can I help you with a tree?" Said a very cute French (probably Canadian) boy at the lot yesterday.

"Well sure - how much is this one?" I say batting my too short eyelashes at the young lad.

"What does the tag say?" Not being one to be pushed around by my feminine ways.

"I know what the tag says, but really, how much?" With a more breathy voice and leaning in just a little.

The French boy then takes the tag and shows it to me like I am stupid. Repeats the number and looks at me.

Ball in my court. Here is were I am supposed to walk away and say "You gotta be crazy. For a tree!"

But I have a problem. I have already been to two tree lots. I was not impressed by the choices offered to me. The pick of the litter at the places that sell a tree at half the price have been taken. The only things left are the ones that you would see in a Charlie Brown cartoon.

"I cannot bring that home!" I say to HB.

"People will visit, they will compliment and I as a gracious hostess will take their applause and bow. This tree, they will boo and hiss. I will lose my privledge of hosting the Christmas Dinner!" I wail.

HB looks at me and makes an odd noise -By the way, sucking your teeth with your in your 40's is not sexy.

So back to my little flirtation/bantering which is going no where fast.

"Well, do you give a discount for cash?" I am whimpering at this point.

"We only take cash, that way you will never be able to trace us and send us nasty letters when we go home to our God forsaken lives in the Artic."

He's got me. The little Canadian boy has got me. He knows his product is good and I want this tree. He knows I just saw a whole bus load of people with cash in their greedy tree wanting hands pull in.

I panic - I yell like a crazy woman at HB. "Do something!" HB flicks me in the head and says "Hello -wake up, there is no negotiating!!!"

I stomp the ground like a child. I am actually thinking of flinging myself on the ground in tears. But this kid will not fall for it. He's good. Too good.

I am beaten. Its a sad sad day for me.

So while I run across a three lane highway to get money, HB has the guy cut and package it up.

He then brings it over to the car and sticks it in the trunk while I go to the lady working the register.

"Boy, trees are expensive." My last shot at maybe getting a dollar or two or five off the price.

"Yes they are."

Bitch.

I sulk to the car, and HB is giving the bloodsucker a few more bucks for carrying it 10 feet or for the enjoyment me of watching me proceed into total meltdown.

Its Christmas and I am surrounded by Masochists!