She appeared from no where in the busy market, first assessing the situation, then focusing to solve the problems - hers and ours. She took over from the driver, sending him back to guard our previous purchases at his cyclo (a bicycle-powered rickshaw).
Our problem was Doug needed some handy 'slip-on' shoes to wear 'around the house,' that being the custom here. The street, sidewalks, the ground outside is considered dirty, for very good reasons, and thus the logical custom of taking off your shoes when you enter a home. And, Doug's feet --- 11-1/2 in the US, ~ 45 in these parts --- are considerably larger than the local standard sizes. 
Our cyclo driver had dutifully taken us to the shoe stores on the main drag, Tran Hung Dao, and when those didn't pan out, he took matters into his own hands and drove us to the infamous Dong Ba Market.
We had been warned about Dong Ba, and had planned to visit when we had time to take it on our own terms. They hadn't exaggerated when friends said it was a confusing assembly of stuff piled precariously high, narrow aisles, vendors tugging at your sleeves to stop and buy from them, everyone chattering at you at once. I had learned in Thailand that examining merchandise meant you could be persuaded to buy anything, so we kept our eyes on the driver and followed him. He knew from previous stops what we needed, and what the trouble was. And, he apparently knew a place that might have the goods. But, alas, vendors had nothing to offer that was even close. After a couple of times following the driver to other booths, even he was ready to throw in the towel.
"You buy from my store, lady," sounded like just another voice in the crowd. She was not the first, or even the tenth, to say it to me that afternoon. But she said it in a way, with a closeness, that warranted a response, without my even being aware. "No, we must find shoes for my husband." It was the information she needed to take charge. What was the goal? Finding suitable shoes for these huge feet! She heard it from my own mouth. The only thing keeping me from spending my money at her store right now were the needs of those enormous feet.
She dragged us to five more shoe stalls in the Dong Ba. No luck! Then we erupted onto Tran Hung Dao Street to look in the only shoe stores in the city our driver missed taking us to. Still no shoes to fit those feet.
Our driver was still waiting by his cyclo with our packages when we returned on foot to his location in front of the Market. I don't know if he had given up on the search, or if she had kicked him off the case. By now, I had given up. I thanked her for her help, even though we had not found shoes to buy, in way of tacit dismissal.
She verified with me that we were giving up our problem as a lost cause, at least for today. "You no buy shoes?" "No, we can't find the size we need to buy. Thank you for your help." Now we only had her problem to solve. "You buy from my store now." It was not a question. It was a declaration of fact. With no obstacle in my way, I was now able to go to her store and spend all the money she could talk me into parting with.
From her store I have two new silk blouses I didn't know I needed.
(Be sure to click on the photos to see a larger version.)