We were at the pier in Provincetown, Massachusetts, and so, so young. I watched off to the side as my boyfriend negotiated with the street vendor and eventually wore him down.
“The guy wanted $10,” he told me, holding the kalimba in his hand as he walked back to me. I would have gone down to $6, but I got it for $4!”
I would have just pulled a $10-dollar bill out of my pocket because I hated to negotiate as much as it fueled him. Continue Reading