Made Bidadari is a good friend, successful businessman, and a bit of a wheeler-dealer in the Japan/Bali circuit. He will occasionally call me and tell me he’s hungry. I always laugh and ask, “how hungry?” Inevitably his response will be “very, very hungry.” It’s code language for “I want money.”
We both laugh and tease each other about his insatiable hunger. He’s always hungry but I only agree to meet him if he is having a 50% off sale just to see exactly how hungry he is. He has some of the best wood that can be found but always at twice the market rate. He deals primarily with Japanese clients whohave less space in their homes, fewer things, value the best of the best, and will pay top Yen for what they want. I value the best, but won’t pay top dollar. When I arrive at his warehouse, he assures me he is nearly starving and needs money for the family ski trip to Japan that night.
“Looking at schools for the kids?” I ask. “No. They want to ski. It’s the end of the ski season and bargain time.” “Okay Made, really, how hungry? Give me prices on 4 pieces and we’ll see about your hunger.” He quotes Japanese prices plus 20% to me and I tell him he must have just eaten a feast and is so full he won’t be hungry for months. Skiing is not hunger and he’s wasting my time. We carry on saying more outrageous things to each other and laugh and laugh.
I love Made. He’s fun, innocent, unprotected, and doesn’t hide the game involved in buying and selling. When he first sees me he runs to me and gives me a huge bear hug. This is very, very un-Balinese! He credits me with his success in business from my guidance and major purchases early on and he actually means it. Too bad I can’t afford his furniture anymore unless, of course, he’s truly hungry.
Today is not my lucky day. I offer standard, good friend/business prices on 4 tables and he counters with a 10% discount. I give him a big hug, wish him happy travels, and tell him to call me when his hunger has reached excruciating pain and not before.
