I call Fendi and John answers. He speaks politely with a sophisticated British accent. He's made-to-order for his job. I ask him about the upcharge.
John: Well, ma’am, the bags are all handmade.
Me: I know they are. But they are all handmade even if I don’t custom order a particular color.
John: Yes, ma’am, but this way, you’ll have your own Fendi bag that no one else has.
Me: Well that’s not really true. I mean, someone else could order the same color I’ve ordered, couldn’t they?
John: Well, yes, I suppose they could.
Me: And besides, I hardly see anyone anyways with the small messenger bag. And even if I did, it wouldn’t bother me in the least.
John: Ma’am, we sell exotic animal skin bags that cost $36,000. People buy these because they are one of a kind.
Me: Well, John, I think it would be ridiculous to spend that much on a bag, regardless of how much money you have. (And besides, I think but don’t say, as I’m sure I have already aggravated John enough, if they are all custom made anyway, by definition every bag is one-of-a-kind).
This morning I go to the Farmer’s Market. Their fresh, one-of-a-kind corn is more than I’d pay at D’Agastino’s. That upcharge is worth it. I buy four ears.
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