can you haggle here??

I’m not sure, but I did it.

As everyone knows I have an affinity for cheap wine. I had three wishes in Miami, which was INCREDIBLE. $2.99 for a bottle of Chard (although I identify as a Pinot Grigio girl.) Life was hard when I went to San Francisco with no Whole Foods in sight.

So I went to Trader Joes and ventured on to the notorious ‘Two Buck Chuck.’ Cue Elizabeth and my DEATH HANGOVER, which resulted in us on the couch the entire day fighting the urge to yuke at a Red Lobster commercial that had shrimp flying across the screen. I don’t recommend it, and we never indulged in it again. Sometimes the extra dollar is worth it.

Actually, that’s unfair. 2 buck chuck can be fine just keep in mind that just because the Patriots won doesn’t mean you have to drink 15 bottles of it.

So here I am in Amsterdam and I’m tryna find my fix. Venturing to the grocery store, Albert Heijn, aka the site of my first almost panic attack, I located a 4 euro wine which, actually, happens to be named “Garrett.” Fate.

Fast forward two nights later and my friends Katie and Jimmy have arrived and we’re ready to celebrate. After running promptly out of wine I tried to tell them how to get to Albert Heijn but with no directions on our phone, WE’RE DYING. So they went to a tiny little shop and bought 9 euro wine or something. Hurts my soul.

When we run out of that Katie and I ventured down to the market near my apt. I tell the man I want white wine and he digs and digs until he produces some, unnamed, unsure what kind bottle of white. I guess I don’t really discriminate except for the demon wine they call Moscato.

“9 euro.”

See. Herein lies the problem. I don’t BUY wine that is 9 euro aka $11.78 AHAH like what??? Double digit wine?????

Anyways, I’m a few glasses in so this is when I get brave.

“9 euro? Really? I’ve found it much cheaper.”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s 9 euro”

“No, I really have. You don’t believe me?”

Mildly combative…usually my way.

“No.”

“Okay I’m going to go walk across the street and I’ll come back and show you.”

As I flip my hair with tipsy righteousness and turn to walk out (definitely looked cool,) he yells out.

“Fine, 8 euro.”

“7.”

“No.”

“Alright, thank you. I’m not interested.”

This is when we face off. A moment. AN ETERNITY. Staring into the face of this man who, now that I think about it, had such a round little face. And with the emotions I was forcing him to have his face looked much like the straight line mouth emoji.

“Fine, 7 euro.”

The look on his face! He didn’t seem pleased. He certainly did not. But I was just so psyched. That 2 euro, that 2 dollars and 62 cents. Dreams of the possibilities.

“I live down the street, I’ll be back. I’m loyal.”

He stared. Same stare. Silent anger.

SO I PROBABLY WON’T BE BACK, for I am much LESS BRAVE when I am not aided by white wine. Instead I will hide my face and run past my new enemy to Albert Heijn to get my Garrett White Wine.

Plus, I don’t know if I’ll ever haggle again. I prefer to quit while I’m ahead. I’m not trying to ruin my 100% success rate on this one. Kind of like how I retired shortly after my college championship flag football season. HTLN forever, we are the champions.

xo tay