Shopkeepers vs ordinary mortals

One hears that the French language offers a rich array to choose from when it comes to insulting phrases. That Napoleon, who was an extremely eloquent man with all powers of the French expression at his disposal, chose to show his contempt for England by calling it a nation of shopkeepers tells its own story. According to some accounts, it was Adam Smith or Bertrand Barère who originally coined the phrase. Well, why split hairs when there is no controversy regarding the epithet (‘shopkeepers’)?

It is pleasant to imagine a parallel universe where shopkeepers do not exist, but in our own universe death, taxes and shopkeepers happen to be facts of life that cannot simply be wished away. No matter how minimalist one’s lifestyle may be, one still needs to occasionally buy things. Encountering shopkeepers (and getting fleeced) is an everyday experience for married folks.

But let us not be overly harsh on shopkeepers. Just as some men must become miners and some others undertakers, some men must take up shopkeeping. All these professions come with their occupational hazards. The profit motive is not something that is known to bring out the best in men. And, of course, not all shopkeepers are evil. I am convinced that it is only 95% of shopkeepers that spoil the reputation of the rest.

The line between lying and fine arts such as advertising and salesmanship is notoriously thin. We all routinely experience this. A shopkeeper quotes you prices of two air-conditioners. You ask him the reason for the price difference. Accustomed to thinking on his feet, he explains that as opposed to the cheaper variety the costlier one ensures that the air stream after moving straight for a while diverges to the left and to the right, cooling the room quicker (he demonstrates the elaborate process using his hands and arms).

If you believe the story, you prove yourself a fool to him (and to yourself). Storming off after telling him that it is a load of manure no doubt makes for a tempting dramatic exit. Practically speaking however, you will still have to buy it from some other shop with a proprietor who is likely to be as imaginative (and unscrupulous), if not more. The theory is straightforward enough: visit several shops and buy from the one that offers the most reasonable deal. Alas, life is rarely that simple. In practice, all shops are run by shopkeepers, who – even if they do not formally belong to a cartel – have a shrewd idea about the price quoted by others. So, there is no good option, really.

But let us not be overly harsh on shopkeepers. Just as some men must become miners and some others undertakers, some men must take up shopkeeping. All these professions come with their occupational hazards. The profit motive is not something that is known to bring out the best in men. And, of course, not all shopkeepers are evil. I am convinced that it is only 95% of shopkeepers that spoil the reputation of the rest.

Cut to three hours later. The AC has been delivered and two technicians have turned up to install it. They have instructions to use more copper tubing than is required to connect the indoor and outdoor units since it is you who pays for it per metre. But they cannot tell you that. You can swear that you read somewhere that the longer the pipes the higher the losses, but the technicians tell you an elaborate story about the need to allow at least two ‘safety’ loops to prevent leakage on account of the ‘dangerous back pressure of the refrigerant’. You decide to throw in your lot with science as you recall it and tell them to forget about the ‘safety’ loops. Now they play their trump card: ‘We will do so if you insist, but do not blame us if something goes wrong.’ You clearly have no answer to this. For you can be certain that if they say something could go wrong, they will ensure that something will go wrong. It is never the greatest idea to argue with your barber when he has a razor in his hand or with men installing your AC. The odds are stacked against you, and in favour of shopkeepers. You just cannot win.

Or so I thought for many years before I devised my fool-proof strategy. Which is as follows: The only way to beat shopkeepers is to play along with them. Accept in good faith whatever fairytale they tell you. This admittedly is a tough ask, but it becomes easier with practice. (Recall that it is not as if you have many other options under the circumstances.) It will save you much trouble, besides doing wonders for your blood pressure. Ask the shopkeeper his buying price. Often you do not even need to ask because he will volunteer the information, telling you that he is taking only so much profit on it (an unbelievably reasonable figure). Your job is done, so proceed to purchase the item. In case he is being truthful (a slim chance), you have the satisfaction of having made a good deal. More probably however, you will have a nice surprise waiting for you in the next life. I like to refer to it as my special ‘shopkeeper’ account for the Hereafter, becoming fatter and fatter every year, secure with the Almighty.

Last year in a gathering at a friend’s place the conversation turned to retailers. I took the opportunity to present my abovementioned approach to shopping. I could tell from facial expressions that there were those who thought it was a brilliant solution to the shopkeeper problem (three men); and those who were amused by what they thought was an intriguing idea (five men). There was one guest however – a perfect stranger – who started showing signs of extreme perturbation. (It was not long before I found out that the gentleman belonged to the shopkeeper fraternity. No wonder he was neither impressed nor amused.) I was barely done explaining the outlines of my ‘shopkeeper’ account when he could contain himself no longer. He vehemently disputed that any such account existed. I asked him how he could be so sure when he had nothing to do with the said account. He explained that my whole approach was unfair because it left shopkeepers no option but to lie to me. It is not often that I find myself lost for words. I admit that that was one such occasion.