New breed of store clerks

As I take my weekly walk down Chavchavadze towards Freedom Square I pass a jewelry store.  And usually I just pass the window and stare appreciatively at the necklaces.  I ventured in once but the clerk gave me the distinct warning that I was not wealthy enough to afford their wares.  Oh those who don’t understand what blue jean pockets can hold.  So pass by I did until one necklace caught my eye, a cascade of enamel butterflies forming a V with some riding higher than others.  In I went to brave the skepticism of the clerk.  But a man was on duty that day so I ventured to ask the price.  As he leaned into the showcase to read the price tag a very, very business-like pistol protruded from his waistband.   He quoted me 19,000 Lari.  I think he added an extra zero but with his armed advantage I didn’t question, just walked out.  Bought a different necklace at a bazaar.  Running up and down Chavchavadze are little yellow buses called marshrutkas.  These are frightening experiences for foreigners or at least this foreigner and I have never tried one as they are decrepit, crowded and confusing.  But as I partook in my window shopping one day out stepped three black clad armed guards; seriously armed guards, like with sawed off machineguns.  As they approached the jewelry store I thought “What did those Georgian passengers think of standing tightly together with a machinegun pressed against one’s spine”.  But looking at the people in the departing bus no one seemed to have noticed!