Some people have this rare, God-gifted talent—you could show them the Eiffel Tower, a diamond necklace, or even your new pair of socks, and within seconds, their mouth blurts out the most predictable line ever: “How much?”
It doesn’t matter if you’re sharing a heartfelt story, a once-in-a-lifetime experience, or just casually mentioning your dinner—they are less interested in the “what” and “why” than the “how much.” I sometimes wonder if they were born with a built-in barcode scanner instead of curiosity.
Conversations with them are basically price audits. You tell them about your vacation, and before you can finish describing the sunset, they’ve already asked, “Ticket kitna tha?” You wear something nice, and before “Wow, looks good on you,” comes the inevitable: “Kya rate hai?” Honestly, if there was a World Championship for price-checking, these people would bring home the gold every single year.
And the funniest part? They don’t even remember the answer later. But for them, asking the price is like breathing—automatic , very annoying.
“Boss, everything has a price… except my tolerance for your stupid questions. That one? Priceless!”
Blessmesai 