I’m not sure whether I was more embarrassed or angry.
On a recent trip to the West Coast with students, our flight itinerary had us flying the red eye back to Pennsylvania. That gave us a day to experience some of the local tourist spots after a several full days of class work. We opted to spend the day in Huntington Beach at the recommendation of the staff at our resort.
Main Street for shopping. The Huntington Beach pier as a tourist attraction. Food. Sand. Sun. We called ahead and found a restaurant that was showing the Penn State football game. It seemed to offer something for everyone. On the day we were there, they were even having a street festival dedicated to support of environmental services and businesses which included vendors, booths and even a parade with people showing their beautifully painted Dumpsters. It was a decidedly California experience.
As the students were out shopping and taking in the sights, I decided to do a little shopping of my own. I happened upon a T-shirt shop that had rows and rows of solid color, plain t-shirts. There were dozens of decals all over the walls. The eager young men who worked there – brothers or somehow otherwise related it seemed – explained to me that all I had to do was pick out which shirt I wanted and the decal I wanted and they would put it on my shirt. It would be my unique design. There were what seemed to be hundreds to choose from; the options included everything from the California state flag to a marijuana leaf to funny sayings about parenting, exercise and even yoga. I thought about picking out a few for my kids to take back as gifts.
I picked out a tank top that was on one of the sale racks. One of the brothers told me it was only $19 which seemed pretty reasonable. I then found a funny saying from the decal wall that would be amusing to wear to yoga. The other brother quickly snatched the shirt from my hands, took it to his iron press and within about 70 seconds, he was putting the shirt in a bag for me to take home.
“That will be $43,” he said. I stopped in mid-motion as I had been getting out my credit card. “The other guy said it was $19,” I said. “That was without the decal. You picked out a medium priced decal,” he replied as he pointed to a sign about the size of a 4X6 index card, pasted behind the checkout counter.
My jaw dropped. I had been scammed.
A young couple who had wandered into the store and witnessed the whole thing looked at me. The young man said, “I guess that’s how they get you.”
What do I do now? Walk out without taking the shirt? Argue with the owners of the store? Make a scene in front of other customers?
I am now the proud owner of a gray tank top that says “LIFE GOALS. Pet all the dogs.” The T-shirt itself probably cost $1.47 for the shop owners to purchase from a company in another country and the decal was likely 17 cents.
As I stepped out of the dark store and back out into the California sunshine, I had that feeling that I get when I lose money. I don’t mind making the occasional impulse buy for something I don’t need, but lose a $20 bill because it falls out of my pocket and it makes me feel so angry at my lack of carelessness.
How could I have been so stupid? It reminded me of the “let the buyer beware” lesson from “The Brady Bunch” that I watched as a kid. Who was at fault? Sure, the brothers scammed me, but I also allowed myself to be taken by not asking the right questions. How much did my “eager tourist” decisions play into an interaction that also probably involved a bit of their system to capitalize on unsuspecting visitors to the area?
I have no problems being assertive in most situations but in a brief flash, I played out the various outcomes. A scene in a store with people I don’t know. Would I be accused of stealing or being responsible much like the “you break it, you bought it” rule of thumb? I had no knowledge of the reputation of or any history with these shady business owners.
They knew that they got me and now I have a $43 tank top that I really didn’t need and one I don’t really want. It won’t happen again.
Let’s hope in our tourist town that our business owners are a bit more scrupulous. Let the buyer beware indeed.
