Diplomacy up in smoke
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On our recent holiday in Greece, my wife and I were dispatched to the nearest village for supplies. One is given to understand that tourists spending money – particularly cash – are not just helpful, but vital in the current economic climate. At the same time, when loading up a supermarket trolley with wine, I wished I knew enough Greek to explain that there were nine adults in our party.
The last item on our list was a packet of small cigars favoured by one of those adults. The kiosk by the petrol station didn’t have any. Even the tobacconist on the square seemed to carry only cigarettes. The man behind the counter shook his head grimly when my wife asked him.
“No cigars,” he said. “Too expensive for Greeks.”
“Not for me!” said my wife, holding up her hands. She was trying to explain the cigars were for someone else, that she was running an errand, but it didn’t come out right. From the tobacconist’s expression it was clear that he understood her to mean that when it came to sourcing her favourite cigars, money was no object. Her flustered attempts to correct this impression were not convincing.
“He thinks that we are fat cats,” she said as we walked back to the car. “No, he thinks you are a fat cat,” I said. “I kept quiet.”