Didn't I see you here last week about this time?


I could have sworn I pointed to the sign.























Well . . . Keep pulling on the door I'm sure someone
will be here to open up for you in a few hours.

Oh yeah - I almost forgot to mention - GET BENT!

Monday morning and who should I see

but mr. Stewart Pidity.

Well Stu's not his real name but it doesn't matter,

He'd be a great gay lover, for the Mad Hatter.

Obnoxious, loud, deaf and quite dense,

& he wants a wireless, - now it makes sense.

"I don't wanna spend much money"

"Here, try this - it's used"

"I can't understand"

"I see you're confused"

"I'll take it anyway, You've made a sale"

(Ignore the voices or you'll end up in Jail)

"How much is it?"   "65 bucks"

I can pretty much guarantee that it sucks.

Well, its coming back, that's a safe bet

but lilkely not for a while yet.

it'll return, that's safe to say . . .

after it fails at his next gig - In May!

I could have went on about how it was funny

"put it on my account" On account of he had no money!

I also could have mentioned how as I typed it in

He demanded to see it. take it for a spin

& I could note when BS came by

"we don't need a contract, I know this guy"

So I turned on my headlamp and prepared to cave

when out of the shadows I was suddenly saved

His buddy pipes up, "I can loan you the dough"

"here's your reciept, take your friend & GO"


 

In the long list of things I hate, Technology repairs are pretty high up.

The average user gets a manual and doesn't read it.
Afterall the best part about new stuff is playing with it and learning.
The most deluxe items are ussually simple enough if you have just half a wit.

The definition of wit is only this, that it is a propriety of thoughts and words;
or, in other terms, thoughts and words elegantly adapted to the subject. --Dryden.

The advanced user downloads one and doesn't need it.

& then we have our trusty subject.  All hail the Wrench.
 
The wrench wants the manual. . . .
he has already downloaded it . . . .
he won't wait for a new unit in the box . . .
He'll take the floor unit and have you order him another manual (and box)

There is no SKU for just a manual, ordering a replacement is a Pain
It involves tedious phone calls and special purchase orders.
So . . here's what happens, a new unit is ordered, (perpetual - like my suffering)
when it arrives we give the manual to the wrench.

What does this have to do with repairs?  I'm getting there. Patience.

Here's what having 2 manuals does for a wrench

• He gets to compare them and scrutinize any differences
• He wants a specific model of generic footswitch
• He finds out how to do a FACTORY/CLEAR MEM reset

It's like giving the retarded kid next door a chainsaw.

Most of us know what a Factory Reset does versus a Clear Memory Reset.

Any guesses which way wicked wrenches wildly wander to first? SARCASM lives here.

And then it comes back on repair.

"All the sounds are gone"

"how strange."  I quip.

In my mind, it's like slamming my fingers repeatedly in the rusty door of an old Buick.
The tag goes on it and it's sent for repair (a few weeks at least, he's been told)

3 days later he's on the phone "it it done yet", "how long will it be" ,

"I need that back right away, I've got a show to do" 

Who are you kidding? What kind of idiot would hire you? Oh, Family function, I see.

So anyway, 2 weeks and 4 calls later his gear is returned, reloaded with presets.

"No Fault Found,  except the memory wipe, won't do that again, eh?"

then he'll look into the box and exclaim

"where's my manual and footwitch?"

Anyone who's been paying attention knows what comes next:

SLAM!

No mention of repais would be comlete without a Big F.U. to LOVE SONG GUY.

Maybe LSG is on LSD, that might explain it. 
A conversation with him is always one sided, it stars with him telling you
about his busted gear,

"I used to have a 61 SG, but I smashed it.
Then I got a Les Paul and broke it, I've smashed Strats, Peaveys, Martins . .
But that's what I do . .I write love songs"

Throw in some truly legendary B.O. and the mixed scent of puke and beer
and you have a faily accurate character sketch. 

I'd like to taze him. - SLAM!

Stick a fork in me I'm done.

Another long day at the grind. The busy days are sometimes better -

Lots of coffee also helps. It all just becomes a blur after the 4th cup.

"I'm making the run"

"Oh yeah - count me in"

"your regular order?"

"Yup, FVCD" (that's french vanilla & chocolate danish)

"just one?" he laughs

"yeah, I'll grab the next round"

So how does 4litres of sugar water and a half dozen flaky pastries make someone so bitter?

I don't know - I thinks it has less to do with what I put into me
& more with what "they" take out of me.

Why do I do it if I hate it so much?

Well, I love to buy gear. Really I enjoy many aspects of my job.

Like personifying people based on their actions.

How you act determines how you're percieved and a name just suits you,

For instance, The Mad Hatter has been mentioned in a recent post.

What's his deal? The day Mad Hatter came in he was just a regular guy,

a customer who would have recieved prompt curteous service until he chose another path.

"Hey, I need a guitar."

"Ok let's see what we can find for you."

I should note that it's 11:00 and he's slurring,
the distinct scent of cheap liquor radiate from his pores

I ask all the appropriate questions:

• Electric or acoustic?
• Steel string or nylon?
• With a pickup?
• Etc.

We determine that he desires a higher end acoustic (steel string) with a pick-up.

I suggest a Taylor, a Larivee, a Martin, then I show him a high end Takamine.

"what!, Takamine is SHIT!" he bellows, a mother and her kid flinch just a few feet away.

"Fuckin, Jap guitars" he continues.

"OK, so no Tak, are you interested in something used?" I ask.

He's been here 10 minutes so far, he looks at his watch and gets up with a start.

"I'm late, I'm late" he puts down the guitar in his hand and I expect him to grab his coat.

Instead he grabs a $4000 Gibson off the wall.

"$4000, yeah right!" pushing it back onto the wall smacking it into 2 other guitars over $2500.

Next, he pulls down an expensive Guild and starts strumming wildly. Then he starts to Sing.

"I'll give you a few minutes" a singing customer is salesperson repellant.

20 minutes later he's still singing - " so . . . do you have any questions?"

It's like I snapped him out of a trance, "Oh shit, I'm late, I'm so late"

He pops up like an alcoholic whack-a-mole, but, instead of leaving he grabs a Taylor Acoustic.

Whatever. Lots of other people are waiting for me, he's not gonna buy anything today.

I have my doubts as to whether he could afford a guitar of that calibre. I know I can't.

I leave him to wail away and slam the poor defenceless piece of wood.

20 minutes after that he's shrieking throught the closed glass door of the acoustic room.

"Curt!, CuRT!, CURT!!!!" he calls over the acoustic amp he's got cranked to 11.

I don't want to go back in there but he is screaming my name. I cautiously open the door.

"Curt! Curt!, This sounds GREAT!"

"awesome. So is, that the one?"

"Whoa slow down, whats your hurry?"

"I just though you had somewhere you needed to be."

"Well, what time is it?" he asks looking down at his watch yet again, "I'm late, I'm late" etc.

I leave him to it - like I say, I could never afford a guitar like that working here anyway.

I already know he'll never buy the guitar he's been flailing on for an hour now, he'll want a new one.

At the very least, a deal on that one. Go ahead ask me for a deal and I'll drop it right in BS's Lap.

As I expected, he did eventaully decide to go with the Taylor, on a subsequent trip.

He did want a deal on it cause it was "used," he did speak with BS and got a discount.

Furthermore, his mode of travel was a bicycle. He did not buy a case.

2 weeks later he returns it and wants a new one (at the same price) because it's scratched.

Luckily I had a day off and did not have to witness the no lube sodomy endured,

to make the customer happy. It was raining that day.

Did he take a cab to pickup his $2000 Taylor? No way. Any case second time around? No.

We did offer him an extra large bag, (ripped holes in it for his arms and head too)

He also bought and returned a few acoustic amps since.

His credit card clears so . . WTF.

If you see a biker riding with one hand & wearing a large plastic bag while

carrying an expensive guitar in the other . . .

Try to clip him so the guitar lands someplace soft.

But make sure he's really dead, cause I'm sure he'll moan like he sings.

Loud and Terrible.

That's all for today - I gotta go, I'm late, I'm Late!

Imagine this . .  a couple of twins, identical twins, 60 year old identical twins,

bowling shirts, pompadors . . .  ladies and gentlemen Evis is alive and squared.

The statistical odds continue to rise when I tell you they both play guitar, rockabilly.

They come across like nice enough guys, (thats a shining accolade from me)

Here's what I like about them - they know what they like, they're laid back & patient.

I'm laid back and patient with them in turn.

I see my job as a bit of a conflict with customers like these.

They always come in asking about new models (domestic guitats only!)

Fender Gibson Gretch.

The bulk of of the conversation always turns to past instruments they've had and lost.

There is much Regret and Gnashing of teeth, they really beat themselves up about it.

It's interesting to hear 2 people speaking in parallel about similar yet individual events.


"I wish I never sold that Gold Top Les Paul" Gary says.

"I should have kept my 335, it was the best." Larry laments.


No sooner do they finish the litany of past 6-strings lost, they inquire . . .

"How much is my 61 SG worth on trade?"  (Larry in my left ear)

"What can I get for a deluxe american strat?" (Gary simultaneously in the right)

Guys - this is the classic recipe for regret.  Rinse and repeat.

The conflict is pitch them on new gear and take the classics on trade OR

convince them to keep their guitars and lose a sale.

I exersize my integrity (cause I'm on salary anyway) and suggest they keep them.

"You guys will just end up missing your classic gear."

"What would you do if you were me?" They ask in unison.

This is my most hated question.  In about 95% of cases I have to fight the urge to say,

"If I were you, I'd put a gun in my mouth" (sometimes the urge is intense!)

"Just put one on account if you like it, pay it off over time"  I suggest.

"I think I might just do that" Garry says

"Yeah, me too." Larry adds.

Imagine that.


The moral of the story is - Don't be a wrench and I won't go out of my way to screw you.

They never try to haggle, they play well, obviously practice, and consistantly show up

in the middle of the day. Kudos.


Fair Warning -

Come in with your bratty kid, push your way to the front of the line,

demand service, show off your vintage guitar with "original" strings, and request a trade value. . .

You will get one - a low one. 

I'm not above taking a sweet guitar in and calling up a friend who sells
on EBAY. 
By the time you reconsider your stupid move it will be gone.

Lament this!  You lost an irreplacable instrument but got a free lesson in Regret.

If you learn from it, that's still a pretty good deal.