One thing you absolutely can’t escape when you are in Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar is the insistent calling of salesmen. It is an endless stream of “Hey, beautiful!” “Lovely lady, this [scarf, necklace, plate, etc.] is almost as beautiful as you are.” and on and on and on.
My favorite went something like this:
- Salesman (mostly directed to my blond friend): “Ah, you are so beautiful. One look into your eyes and I know I am dead.”
- My friend and I: “You’re dead?”
- Salesman: “You are an angel and angels are only in heaven, so I must be dead.”
- Me: “Do you all go to a special school where they teach you these lines?”
- Salesman (without missing a beat): “Sometimes they work.”
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