"shopping in Athens"

newspaper article illustration, ink and Letratone

In her weekly column about the frustrations of everyday life in Athens, the author describes the byzantine procedure involved in buying a simple item from a department store. While western countries have long since adopted the American practice of self-service, Greece and many other countries in southern and eastern Europe were stuck in a 19th century consumer time warp.

Here's how to buy a pencil:

First you find the queue for the pencil counter. When you get to the head of the line, you explain to an assistant what you require. She then pulls out drawers full of various pencils which have been cunningly hidden behind her counter to save customers the tedium of browsing. If you are able to find something vaguely approximating what you're looking for and choose it, she then fills out a sales slip which resembles a doctor's prescription.

Then you line up for the cash desk with the sales slip and your money. Meanwhile another assistant has taken your pencil to the wrapping desk where yet another assistant smothers it in paper. On paying for the item, the cash desk assistant gives you a receipt. You have to specify if you want a tax receipt.

Now you can wait in line again to show your receipt to the guardian of the wrapping desk and finally retrieve your purchase.

Got all that?

Congratulations! You have just spent 20 minutes and kept at least four people gainfully employed, and you have a brand new, professionally wrapped pencil. You may also have had to grovel, plead, perform a pantomime or two along the way, but that's just part of the rich and rewarding experience of shopping in Athens.

It's enough to make a grown illustrator weep.

Oh Drat! I forgot to buy an eraser...