It was a small roadside shop at Al Wahda Street and I picked up a brown shoe.
The price tag mentioned “Dhs70” as the rate and I turned to ask my wife her opinion, when I noticed she had moved on to the next shop as usual and was busy bargaining over a sleek handbag.
Black or brown? Is it too expensive? My dilemma began.
And then came along a young lady.
“How much?” she asked me.
“Dhs 70,” I replied.
“Show me,” she grabbed it from my hand.
“Should fit in well for my hubby. But you are quoting too much?”
Stunned, I answered: “I am not quoting too much. It is the shopkeeper.”
Now it was her turn to get shocked. “Oh, I am sorry... Mistook you for the salesperson,” she said, embarrassed and blushing.
“Never mind,” I said.
“I warned you not to wear that yellow T-shirt,” my wife cursed me. I just swallowed the words I wanted to tell her: “The woman was indeed pretty.”