Working in the op shop recently, I was reminded of the famous haggling scene in Monty Python’s Life of Brian. Brian buys a false beard for 20 shekels (it’s a long story) but the merchant, played by Eric Idle, insists he follow haggling protocol. When Brian halves his offer, Eric’s appeased: “That’s more like it. Ten?! Are you trying to insult me?! Me, with a poor dying grandmother?! Ten?!”
Like the Idle character, I love a good haggle – as long as both parties are up for it and know the rules. It’s one of the rare times in life when we’re actively engaged in a bit of improv theatre. It can be fun and satisfying. But there are conditions. You’ve got to know where to haggle and how to do it – nicely. Op shops should be haggle-free zones (with rare exceptions).
Incredibly, many people insist on negotiating in op shops. Incredible not just because there are signs asking them not to, and that prices, at least in our shop, are already very low – Pierre Cardin dresses for 15 bucks and all that. But amazing because hagglers know this isn’t the Grand Bazaar of Turkey. It’s a charity store and wouldn’t that make you want to act warm and fuzzy, just a little bit?
Beauty blogger Anna Denson from Glam concurs: “Unless you’re incredibly bold, you probably wouldn’t haggle at a big-name merchandiser. So why are you holding thrift stores to a different standard? Imagine demanding the cashier at H&M give you 10 per cent off a jacket just because, or begging for discounts at Target because you aren’t sure if an item will fit your needs. Cringy, right?”
Right. And this was drummed home the other day when we had our very own cringy haggle event. A customer asked to see a tray of watches from the display. She picked them up one by one, studied them at length and plopped them back face down higgledy-piggledy on the tray (rude, right?). They’ve been tested by a jeweller volunteer, given new batteries, and priced at $9.
The customer fancied the watch with the blue face. Then started “the process”. “Why does this say 10.30 when the rest say 11 o’clock?” We had no idea. She took a snap of the back of the watch and Googled it. “It’s a knock-off!” she shouted. “I’ll pay $5 max.”
Charity often begins – and ends – at home. Credit: Getty Images/iStockphoto
What should the volunteer do? Point to the sign on the wall that asks customers not to bargain? Tell her the price is $9 and “we shall not be moved”? Advise that the watch was, in fact, donated by Princess Di and the price should really be $95? Inform her that a lower price might have been accepted had she not been such a pain?
The correct answer is all of the above. But still she howled. She wanted to see the manager. The manager looked concerned, flustered, sympathetic – and accepted her offer. But next time she must pay full price.