Typical interaction with the driver of an auto rickshaw on the streets of Chennai-

I am walking along the side of the road, traffic is whizzing by, auto rickshaws pass about every 10 seconds and a vacant one is inevitably approaching. There it is. I wave my hand slightly and make eye contact. The stage is set.

Me: “Adyar” (Southern part of city)
Auto: “Adyar” (nods head)
Me: “Indira Nagar” (Neighborhood)
Auto: “Intrebartar??” (looks at me with askew confused face)
Me: “IN-DIR-A NA-GAR”
Auto: (same askew face, slightly more confused)
Me: “indiranagar, indiranagar” (Really fast as I attempt to imitate the way it sounds in South Indian)
Auto: “Ahhh indiranagar”
Me: “Water tank, indiranagar water tank” (the landmark nearest my residence)
Auto: “indiranagar water tank?”
Me: “Adyar, Indira Nagar, water tank”
Auto: “Adyar, Indira Nagar, water tank, yesgetinnoproblem”
Me: “How much?”
Auto: (looks me up and down while pretending to calculate the rate, lips already drooling) “150”
Me: “Nononono, 80”

At this point a fair number of the auto drivers will simply give a final look of mild disgust/disappointment and drive off with their heads shaking. Otherwise-

Auto: “Adyar, Indira Nagar, water tank, 150, 150, very far, traffic” (said as if imparting new information upon me that clearly concludes the debate and makes any further misunderstanding a fault on my part and my lack of cultural consciousness.)
Me: “No, 80, I pay 80 to come here. 150 too much.” (Begin to walk away, partly serious but aware that the entire ceremony could simply be up for reenactment with the next auto.)
Auto: viable to drive away at anytime and adjourn the discussion, keep in mind “130, fair price, 130, Indira Nagar water tank” (said while waving hands and shaking head to give illusion of far more content dispersion.)
Me: “100, that’s it, 100. I pay 100.” (Still facing the dusty road ahead, as if about to depart.)
Auto: “120.” (Not willing to concede a larger portion than I.)

Here is where I glance back, showing my weakness and in effect sentencing myself to a price of no less than 120. Jenn could’ve got 80, I’ve seen her do it, but I am weak and find it exasperatingly hard to run a hard bargain. Also, somewhere deep down, buried below many layers of cheapness, with just a hint of a smug smirk, a little Ari-like man waves a white flag that reads “40 rupees = US $1” and eventually me and this mini-Ari realize that we are willing to pay the extra fifty cents or so, no matter how hard it was lost. Plus sometimes we take the bus, costing the both of us a mere 4 rupees, and then we feel good about ourselves, like maybe we deserve a luxurious auto ride through the streets of Chennai. Of course, we are yet to experience a luxurious auto ride. But then again, we don’t really deserve one.