So it’s down to me and colleague B now. We want and need scooters. We want to finally be independent and explore the city and not be stuck in our microcosmos around the school and accommodation. We’ve had enough of incapable taxi drivers who don’t know anything and try to rip us off. Today we decide to go to the X-Union shop and see what they have on offer and hopefully buy.
We jump on our bicycles and drive off. That’s actually a silly idea, because, what are we going to do with the bikes if we buy scooters? We really haven’t thought of it. Colleague B said that we’d be quicker than by taxi and should therefore cycle there. The afternoon traffic is quite bad and if we took a taxi, we wouldn’t make it in time and the shop would be probably closed.
Macklemore is our companion again:
Killing the game 'bout to catch a body
Passed the Harley, Dukie own a Ducati
Timbaland, Khaled, Scott Storch, Birdman
God damn man, everybody got Bugattis
But I'm a keep it hella 1987
Head into the dealership and drop a stack and cop a Kawasaki
I'm stunting on everybody, hella raw, pass the wasabi
I'm so low that my cajones almost dragging on the concrete
My seat is leather, alright, I'm lying, it's pleather
But girl, we could still ride together
You don't need an Uber, you don't need a cab
Fuck a bus pass, you got a moped man
She got 1988 Mariah Carey hair
Very rare, mom jeans on her derriere
Throwing up the West Side as we tear in the air
Stop by Pike Place, throwing fish to a player
Not even half way to the X-Union shop, I look to the right and discover some scooter shops behind the bushes. We stop, turn, drive behind the bushes into a car park and see a dozen shops. Our eyes widen, especially when we discover an incredibly great looking scooter in the first shop. We both stand in front of it in awe and saliver almost drools down our chins. A few people, I guess the shop owner and his gang, approach us and say something, but we don’t really pay attention. After a while, our senses come back to reality and we enter the shop to see some more models. We don’t find anything interesting and walk out again. As we pass THE bike, we ask for the price. With 900 Pounds, it is quite expensive and twice our budget. We enter the shop next door and see a more or less identical model I liked yesterday and am considering buying. I ask for specs and price and the shop owner says 500 Pounds, 72V, 20 Amps, etc. Wait a minute! 500? The one from yesterday was 330 only. I take out my mobile phone and show him a photo of yesterday’s scooter and say that it costs 330. The owner shrugs with his shoulders and walks away. That’s the end of discussion! We too walk away and go to the next shop.
It is weird, in a western country you wouldn’t get this treatment. People try to sell. Not to absolute killer prices, but at least they make an effort to sell. Here, they just don’t care. Their attitude is, if you don’t buy, someone else will. Customer is king? Not in this country! I start to believe that Russell Peters, the Indian-Canadian comedian is absolutely right in what he says about Chinese making business. They are so different from the Indians and other nations. And because there are no price tags anywhere, they can tell you whatever they want. And they do. Especially to Laowai - foreigners. If they see white people, you can see Dollar signs in their eyes. Take it or leave it. We go for the latter and leave it. We go from shop to shop and realise that these people here have quality scooters, that’s why they are more expensive and out of our budget.
Time flies by and we still haven’t found anything to buy. There are many nice and beautiful pieces, but either too expensive or have a 60V battery. In the back of our minds is still the X-Union shop, that’s why we are not really bothered to buy today. Although I’d love to get one.
Almost two hours later, as we believe we’ve reached the last shop and are ready to go home, colleague B looks around the corner and sees another shop. The owner, a lady, has wrapped up for today and is about to close her shop and go home, but she does us the favour to stay for a little. The shop is smaller than all the other ones and I don’t find anything I like. But B does. He is interested in two models and asks questions. The lady behaves like a seller back home and flourishes in her role. She pulls scooters aside so we can have a closer look at the ones B is interested, she uses hands and feet to explain things, she uses Baidu Translate to make us understand better and you can clearly see that she wants to sell.
While we are in the shop, her husband arrives to pick her up, sees us, takes his mobile phone and takes a few photographs of us walking around and bending over the various scooters.
Colleague B decides not to buy anything, so we leave.
Oh what a tiresome day!
Some scooters we saw.
If you would like to read more by me, here are my novel and my diary from Ar'ar, in the northern Saudi desert. Both available on Amazon as soft and hard copy.
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