Part 176: Trevor the Security Guard

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RECORD STORE TALES Part 176:  Trevor the Security Guard

Without a doubt, the laziest man I ever met in my Record Store Travels was Trevor, the security guard.

Our very first store was in a mall.  Malls have numerous indigenous life forms:  Mall rats, Crazy dudes that talk to themselves, hot girls that work at the clothing stores, and security guards.  Security guards liked to patrol two places in particular:  The clothing stores where the hot girls worked, and record stores.

I went to highschool with Trevor.  He was one year behind me.  He was an ancillary member of our group, the nerd kids that ate lunch in the chess club room.  As such, Trevor found his way into our highschool comic book, “Brett-Lore”.  These are the only surviving pictures of Trevor’s comic book alter ego, the book itself left in my care after graduation.

Trevor was most certainly a lazy man.  He would be known to kill an hour at a time in our store.  Not buying anything, just talking, and being a security guard.  While I am sure he purchased more than one CD in his years as a security guard, I can only recall one.  Ironically, it was “One”, by Metallica, the live version digipack.  It was a rarity and a good purchase on his part.  I believe he paid $8.99 for it.

Metallica One live

Trevor spent so much time in our store wasting our time, that I caught shit for it.  Sort of.

My boss came to me and said, “Mike, I have to ask you a question.  Do you have a friend with dreads?”

I searched my memory, but I couldn’t think of anyone with dreads.  (I had a friend, Aaron L, who had four braids on his head, but that was a few years later.)

“No.  Why?” I answered.

“Well, a strange thing happened.  A customer of ours was in here on Friday, and said you were so busy talking to someone with dreads, that she got fed up and bought her CD at Zellers instead.  You don’t know anyone with dreads?”

Immediately, I realized there was a miscommunication.  I didn’t have any friends with dreads at that time.  I did, however, have a friend with red hair — red, not dreads — and it was Trevor the security guard!

“Nope, I don’t know anyone with dreads.  Sorry,” I covered for myself.

“OK.  It must have been a misunderstanding.  Well, just remember how important it is to pay attention to every customer.”

Whew! Got away with it!  Only now, 18 years later, can the truth be told!  Yes, it was Trevor the security guard who was chatting me up that day.  Trevor the security guard, the laziest man in my esteemed group of highschool friends.

Whew.  Off my chest.  That feels good!

NEXT TIME ON RECORD STORE TALES:

A double Helix feature!

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