Record Store Tales

Part 262: By Your Side

A sequel to Part 260: Sho’ Nuff – The Return of STATHAM

RECORD STORE TALES Part 262:  By Your Side

1999 was shaping up to be an exciting year.  The Black Crowes’ most recent disc, Three Snakes & One Charm, wasn’t bad but it didn’t excite me.  Rolling Stone magazine made negative comments about Chris Robinson’s beard as if the beard wrote the songs.  The rumour mill was going full speed, that the Crowes had returned to their “earlier” sound.  The new album, By Your Side, would be more like Shake Your Money Maker, and less like a bunch of bearded hippies jamming after a toke.  I know today the Crowes had recorded an album called Band (now available as CD 2 of The Lost Crowes), but it was rejected by American Recordings who wanted the band to make a basic rock n’ roll album, so they shaved off their beards and that’s what they did.

OK, sure, whatever – I was on board.  I don’t mind some changes to shake things up.  I don’t necessarily always endorse a full-on “return” to a sound, because you can’t really duplicate a specific era.  But this was the Crowes, a band who injected integrity into everything they’d done so far.

The first single released, “Kickin’ My Heart Around” was a frickin’ steamroller of a rock song.  It was released in November 1998, about two months before By Your Side was to come out.  It created a real buzz.  I was hearing excitement in the store from a lot of Crowes fans.  Naturally, the new Crowes album would be a subject for Statham and I to discuss, and discuss it we did.  Statham knew then that I collected Crowes B-sides, and “Kickin’ My Heart Around” had two that weren’t going to be on the album.

I’m not too sure about Chris’ Prince Valiant haircut

In late December, Statham strolled into my store with a surprise.  He had picked up for me my own copy of “Kickin’ My Heart Around” since I had been unable to locate one!  Best of all, it was a Christmas gift – the first gift that I was given by a customer at the record store that I can recall.  I was quite blown away.  I didn’t ask Statham to get the CD for me, and I certainly didn’t expect a gift from a customer!  But then again, as he has said in the past, he believes in treating his record store guys right.  That’s something I’ll never forget.

The two B-sides “It Must Be Over” and “You Don’t Have To Go” were both quality tunes on top of it all.  I was thrilled.  I brought the CD home and showed it to my dad.

“Get this, dad!” I began.  “One of my customers bought me this CD that I have been looking for!  It’s an early Christmas present!  Cool, huh?”

My dad, being the “negative Nancy” that he can be sometimes said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to accept gifts from customers. What does he expect in return?”

“I don’t think he expects anything in return, dad.  It was just a thoughtful gift.  He’s a nice guy.”

“Well just be careful,” my dad cautioned.  “In my experience nothing’s free!”

I’m glad to say in this case, my dad was wrong.  Statham had no secret agenda, beyond friendship, and we’re still friends 15 years after that. If anything we’ve taken gifting music to each other to an extreme that we both enjoy.  The mutual benefits have been incalculable!  Thank you Statham for this CD, which I still treasure today.

Part 261: Something In Your Mouth

CHAD SUX

RECORD STORE TALES Part 261:  Something In Your Mouth

From the pet peeve department, here’s a journal from the Record Store.

9/12/05

I have a BIG pet peeve with people (strangers in particular) who talk while eating.  If you’re eating dinner at home with your family, that’s one thing.  The rules of your home are the rules of your home, and I respect that.  But this guy was right in front of me, in the store, mowing down a Timmy’s [Tim Horton’s] bagel.  He had cream cheese all over his lips, and he wasn’t really dressed like he was a slob.  He ate the whole thing right there, while talking to me at the counter.  Just really hungry I assume?

Eww.  On that note, here’s Nickelback.

Part 260: GUEST SHOT! Sho’ Nuff – The Return of STATHAM

Good things come to those who wait.  Longtime contributor STATHAM has returned to talk about shoppin’ for Black Crowes.  He’s in italics, me in burgundy.  (That makes him Snake Eyes while I remain the Crimson Guard.)  Let’s boogie!

RECORD STORE TALES Part 260:  Sho’ Nuff – The Return of Statham

I believe in being friendly to record store employees. A lot of people just treat them like any other retail clerk, but not me. Talk to them, find out common ground. They learn your interests, make recommendations… it’s a way better world than just treating them like a gas jockey. And there’s no reason why you can’t be nice to the people at the gas station, either, you know.

I started going to Mike’s shop sometime in 1995. And I left to go live in Montreal in 1999. In those four years I was in that shop a lot. I like music, and it was basically across the street from where I lived. My favourite was the Bargain Bin. Always a treasure or three in there. And Mike always seemed to be there. Rare was the trip in that he wasn’t on duty. I think he slept in the back room.

True to my practice, I talked to the guy, we discovered a lot of common ground. He was most fair on CDs I was trading in. He steered me to many great records (and laughed with [or at] me when I chose some stinkers). We never hung out outside the store, though there’s no reason why not. But over that time I got to know him as a stand-up guy.

IMG_00001779In late 1998, The Black Crowes were gearing up for what was hyped to be a “comeback”; a “return to their classic sounds.” The fact that Chris Robinson had shaved off his cave-beard was supposed to indicate something to fans that fell off the wagon after 1994’s Amorica. Part of this calculated campaign including reissuing all four original Black Crowes studio albums, remastered, with bonus tracks and videos.

Statham kept me apprised of the latest Crowes happenings. He had his finger on the pulse, and during his regular visits he would update me. We discussed the band, the reissues, what we hoped for, and as always we disagreed over favourite albums. I’m an Amorica guy.  He’s a Southern guy.

One day, Statham phoned me at the store with some exciting news.

IMG_00001780Somewhere in 1998, my sister (who took my introduction of her to the Black Crowes and ran with it something fierce) told me the Crowes had announced a box set, called Sho’ Nuff. This was exciting for many reasons, mainly the extra tracks that were rare (at that point), two on each album, and the live EP to be included. We already owned the four albums in the box, and couldn’t care less about any remastering job done to them.

Also remember, this was in the days when the internet existed, but it was nowhere near what it is now. We certainly never ordered CDs online. It was pure brick and mortar for us. Seemed this set was (purportedly) some kind of exclusive release. We HAD to have it.

IMG_00001784He’s right, the box set was an American exclusive — no Canadian release. However, the big HMV in Toronto was going to be importing a limited quantity. The live EP included within was from the Amorica tour which put it high on my priority list, and it was also exclusive to the box set. It is simply titled The Black Crowes Live.

I told Mike about the set, and how we were going to Toronto to get them ASAP. I’d called ahead to the HMV at 333 Yonge and they said they might still have a couple on hand. We panicked. “A couple?” Gah! We need to get these! Our course was set. I asked Mike, did he want us to bring one back for him? I don’t think his reply was precisely “hell yes!” but the level of enthusiasm was in that ballpark.

Even today I can recall the tingle of anticipation, the trip there taking too long. We got downtown, made the trek to the flagship HMV and… the staff didn’t know where the sets were. Computer said there should be some on-hand, they’d have to look… finally they were found in some corner, nowhere near anywhere that one would think (like, near the Crowes section, or in a Boxed Sets section. No, that would’ve been too easy). And there were enough for each of us (and not many more). Hooray!

Box sets procurred, we made the most of the rest of our day, and headed home. I brought Mike his copy on my next trip in to the store. He seemed pretty damn happy about it. I wouldn’t do something like that for everyone I meet, probably, but Mike was another story and it was a pleasure to help out. He’d helped me out with a lot, in the store. It was good to return the favour, in some small way.

I wouldn’t be lying if I said whenever I listen to that Black Crowes set, it always reminds me of all the great conversations with Statham. Some obscure memory always flashes back, be it a conversation or a long meandering email thread.

I still have the box set (of course), everything intact including the four stickers (one included in each studio CD) and the fragile blue jewel case for Three Snakes and One Charm. I’m not sure how I would have acquired (or even known about) Sho’ Nuff without Statham. Thanks man. I still owe you for this one! (Figuratively, I did pay him!)

Part 259: New Release Twos-days

A sequel to Part 97:  New Release Tuesdays.

Part 259:  New Release Twos-days

New releases were almost always Tuesdays.   There are only so many Tuesdays in a year, and many music stars avoid releasing their albums on the same day as a rival’s.  Others like to go head to head, or try to beat other artists to the punch by releasing their albums early.  Record labels plan release strategies around these Tuesdays like generals going to war.  Advertising blitzes are ordered, interview campaigns co-ordinated, and personnel rallied.

Most often, bands didn’t want to compete with rival bands over limited consumer dollars.  On June 14, 2005, the three big releases we stocked that day weren’t fighting over the same customers.  Foo Fighters’ In Your Honor was the album I had been waiting for, but my good buddy Dan Slessor from Kerrang! magazine sent me a UK copy with the bonus track “The Sign” so I was going to keep waiting until  it arrived.  In Your Honor and its single “Best Of You” remain highlights of the Foo œuvre.  I expected steady sales.

On the same day, the Backstreet Boys returned from a lengthy hiatus.  Extending that hiatus was the release date of their comeback CD Never Gone (ha ha) which was pushed back almost a year.  I didn’t expect much mileage out of this album.  Then in the rap section, we had Fat Joe.  All Or Nothing was the name of his album.  Rap was usually a quiet but reliable seller.  Although some rap albums were sluggish and often died quickly, if you ordered in conservative quantities we could usually do well with rap.  You just had to know when to drop the title before people stopped buying it.  This is the kind of argument I would get into with our Head Office people all the time.  Sometimes they were right, sometimes they were wrong and I was right.  However I felt that they often used my well-known love of Heavy Metal music against my arguments, any time I was in favour of dropping a rap or dance title.  “You just want to get rid of it because you don’t like it,” they would say.  There’s just nothing you can say when somebody has that set in their minds already.

Anyway, on this Tuesday I proved to be wrong about first-day sales predictions.  I dug up my journal from that day.  And the winner is…

A tie!

Date: 2005/06/14 17:35

I have sold just as many Backstreet Boys as Foo Fighters today.

But nobody bought Fat Joe.

For the record, I’m also the one who predicted that Nick Carter’s solo album would outsell Justin Timberlake’s.  It really didn’t turn out at all like that!

Part 258: Uncle Meat

Uncle Meat is former co-worker, now friend. He worked at one of the other record store locations for about a year. Back in Part 78, he told his side of the story, but I thought I should return the love.

MEAT

RECORD STORE TALES Part 258:  Uncle Meat

My first encounter with the man known as Uncle Meat (his parents still call him Eric) happened in 1987.  I didn’t meet Meat in 1987; I met Meat officially in the 1990’s when he was hired at one of our stores.  As we chatted about people we both knew, we pieced it together:  Both of us were friends with a talented local singer/songwriter named Rob Szabo.   Way back in the 80’s, Rob was in a band then called Under 550, and they won the Battle of the Bands at Grand River Collegiate Institute in ’87.  I remember they knocked out a version of Rush’s “YYZ”.  They were sent to the next round, to battle it out regionally at the Center In the Square.

They added a lead vocalist for the big competition, and temporarily changed their name to Over 550.  550 lbs was the total combined body weight of the band.  They were just under 550 lbs, until they added the singer.  Get it?  They were up against a neighbor of ours, George, who was playing bass in a band called Zephyr.  Also in the running were such luminaries as Stomach Acid, and F.U.H.Q.

It was when discussing this gig that Uncle Meat and I realized we were both in the same place at the same time — except he was on the stage and I was in the crowd!  I have a distinct memory of watching a very heavy thrash metal band.  They were just too heavy for most in attendance, but they had chops and a good singer.  That singer was Meat.  One thing I’ll never forget about his set is this:  a whole row of long-hairs ran down in front of the stage during the first song, and banged their heads through it all.  When Meat had played his two songs, they went back to their seats.  I’d never seen anything like it before, at that tender age of 15.


Spring 1991 – Uncle Meat singing “Fairies Wear Boots” with Heavy Cutting

Many years later, I worked a shift at the store with Uncle Meat, and that was our first “official” meeting.  I remember that it was a pre-Christmas shift, and I was helping out another store.  It was the two of us and Meat’s arch-nemesis, a girl who did not get along with him at all.  (The story of why was recounted in Top Five Discs That Got Us In Shit.)  It was a fun shift, busy as hell, and I remember stopping at an HMV store on my way home and picking up a Savatage CD (their then-latest, Wake Of Magellan).

Here I am, almost three decades later, remembering that night in ’87 like it was yesterday.  I could tell you details like what jacket I was wearing (a dark blue leather one).  I could tell you who I went with: Bob, Scott, and Todd Meyer.  I couldn’t tell you who won anymore, but I do know this:  It was fate.  It was fate that Meat and I should meet.  When we work together on a project, it’s peanut butter and jam.  Thanks for friendship Uncle Meat, and thanks for contributing so much to mikeladano.com.


Same night, same gig: Szabo on axe shreds some Judas Priest.
Listen to that fucking singer!

Part 257: Sexy Beast

RECORD STORE TALES Part 257:  Sexy Beast
Or: should a cockney accent be mistaken for a foreign language?

This guy, “Big Daddy Dave,” came into the store to return a movie he bought.  That DVD was Sexy Beast, starring Ben Kingsley and Ray Winstone. Great movie, British mobster flick. If you’ve seen it (and I recommend that you do) then you know the accents are quite thick — but also that the movie is still in English.  In fact I recommended the movie to Big Daddy Dave and was surprised to see him return with it in hand.

He walked up to the counter and said, “Yeah, I want a movie that’s in English.” So I explained to him that Sexy Beast was in English. Ray Winstone and Ben Kingsley are, in fact, both English. “That movie was in English? But I couldn’t understand a damned word they said!”

As my mother-in-law says, “You can’t fix stupid”.

BEAST

Part 256: A Case of the Mondays

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RECORD STORE TALES Part 256:  A Case of the Mondays

Towards the end of my record store years, 2005 to the start of 2006, the mere thought of waking up in the morning of a Monday was enough to make me feel physically ill. The feelings of dread usually began settling in on Sunday evening. By Monday morning I was not feeling well at all.  I was used to being beaten down by unpleasant customers, unpredictable superiors,  and long hours with not enough time off. I was sick and tired of being used, but I was also sick.  I began to hate the mere sight of a CD, and certain songs played in store became so annoying that they haunted me at night.  I stopped enjoying music.

I remember waking up one Monday morning and thinking to myself, “I wonder what would happen if I quit my job today.” I had a home and a mortgage, but finding a new job had proved difficult. My skill set was expansive, and my time at the record store had demonstrated my loyalty.  Most jobs I was applying for were not interested in somebody with only retail experience. It didn’t matter that I was a manager, so I went from interview to interview without luck. The steady rejection impacted my emotional state in a negative way.

I called my dad, who I could always count on for good advice.

“Hey dad,” I began. “I have kind of a weird question for you. What would you say if I told you I wanted to go to work and quit my job today?”

“I would say that is not a very good idea,” he responded with seriousness. “You have a mortgage, and I’m sure you know it’s easier to find a new job when you’re already employed. Finding a good job while out of work is easier said than done. I would strongly advise that you don’t quit anything until you have something else to fall back on.”

Not the answer I wanted to hear, but I knew he was right. What I didn’t tell my dad (and what he didn’t know until he started reading these Record Store Tales) is just how miserable I was. I had become a complete basket case.  He tells me now that he regrets the advice that he gave me that Monday morning. If he had known what I was going through he would have given me very different advice.

I thanked him for his words of wisdom and hung up the phone. I got dressed and ready for work. Breakfast was out of the question. My stomach was too wound up to handle eating. At the end of the record store days, I was generally only eating one or two meals a day. I didn’t really put together how that was affecting my mental and physical energy levels.

I used to listen to the same CD in the car on the way to work in the mornings: Dance of Death by Iron Maiden. I’d get in, put on the album, and then try to take as long as possible to get to work. Red lights meant more Maiden. Then as I’d pull into the store, I’d check out the parking lot and see if any of the bosses had arrived yet. You could never guess their temperament any day, so all I could do was pray they all had nice weekends. If they were in a good mood, they’d leave me more or less alone. If not, you could cut the tension with a knife.

I hated the tense Monday mornings.

Once I entered and hung up my coat, I’d do a walk around. I’d check to see how sales were on the weekend, what messes were left for me to clean up, and what problems had come up. I’d also rush to do a quick cleaning. Any glass surfaces with fingerprints had to be wiped clean before any bosses spotted them. They had a habit of bitching about anything they saw before I did. Other store managers didn’t have to deal with the stress of having “head office” in the back of their stores, but I did.

These taut Mondays were often long and enervating. I’d open the store at 10am and wait for the first customer. Usually they were people selling scratched up CDs for cigarette money. The day would drag on, and Mondays meant getting home later than usual, since Monday was also Stock Transfer Day! Even though I was “off” duty, none of us were ever really off duty. The phone, after all, could ring any time.

I suffered in silence. I didn’t want to stress out my parents, so that one phone call to my dad was all they knew. It was a dark time, but it is always darkest before the dawn.  I survived.  I am here with Record Store Tales to prove it.

Part 255: ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

Here we are on the 24th.  Have you done all your shopping?  Bought all the wine and food?  Then settle in for the last update before Christmas.  I always take a break from posting at this time, so check back in a few days and I’ll have fresh content again for you soon.  Enjoy this Record Store Tale, and best wishes!

RECORD STORE TALES Part 255: ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

December 24th.  One of our busiest days of the year.  Not the busiest though – that would often fall on the last Saturday before Christmas, on the 23rd, or our annual Boxing Day sale on the 26th.  Nearly two months of buildup and hard work, and it’s all over in what feels like a blink!

The 24th could sometimes be a fun day to work.  Not all customers were your typical cranky shopper, although we certainly saw those too.  Many of our Christmas Eve customers were simply killing time.  Some were spending their Christmas money a little bit early.  Some didn’t care what day it was, particularly those who came in to sell CDs for cash.

Yes, many people did come in to sell even on Christmas Eve.  A few were looking for credit to buy gifts, some were just looking for money to buy a Christmas dime bag.  Either way it was always a busy day, and we were kept moving on our feet.  Many dollars exchanged hands on the 24th.

I recall Christmas music was in such demand that a few years I was left with 4 or 5 Christmas CDs left in stock.  Often these would be the ones that always sat, year after year, unwanted, unsold.  As a person who’s never liked Christmas music, I could never understand the NEED to have it, just to listen to it once a year.  To me, that’s what the radio was for.  But I wasn’t there to try to analyze the wants and desires of the people.  My job was to sell them whatever crap we had left.

The 24th was a messy day.  Usually you could count on snow getting tracked in on the carpets (which were only cleaned a few weeks prior – why??).  Also, most customers could not seem to put discs back where they found them.  This was a combination of poor shelf design, customers who didn’t give a shit, parents that don’t watch their children as they tear the store apart, and people who didn’t know the alphabet.  Discs would be everywhere by the end of it all, scattered hither and yon, with no rhyme or reason as to why they were left there.

I always wore a suit and tie on Christmas Eve.  This was a tradition begun by the boss and owner in the early 1990’s, but I was the only one who carried on this tradition.  The first time we did the suits T-Rev said, “I like it, it makes me feel important!”  People do treat you a little differently when you’re wearing a tie.

After all the rushes of customers died down, we’d start hanging the signs in preparation for the big Boxing Day sale on the 26th.  Buy 3 Get 1 Free!  Or something like that.  Not good with any other special offers though, so people would have something to bitch about.  “Why can’t you stamp my card too?”  Etc. etc.

One year (’96 or ’97) after close at 6 pm, the boss told me to stay late and help him hang these signs.  They were big banners for our Boxing Day sale.  He climbed a ladder to clip these huge hanging signs from the ceiling.  I was there on the floor in my tie trying to hold the sign aloft as he worked.  Then he dropped a clip to the ground and we couldn’t see where it landed.  And apparently we didn’t have any spares.

On hands and knees I searched and searched.  We even got out a flashlight to try to find the damned thing.  No luck!  Meanwhile the clock ticked and ticked.  6:30.  6:45.  7:00.  The parking lot outside was quickly resembling a frozen ghost town, as people raced home to begin their own festivities.

Just as I found the damn clip on the ground, the phone rang.  Normally I wouldn’t answer the phone this late after close on Christmas Eve, but my boss answered, and it was my mom.

“When are you sending my son home to enjoy his Christmas Eve dinner with his family?” she chided.

“Oh I’m sorry Mrs. Ladano!” my boss responded.  “We’re almost done.  You’ll have him soon.”

I think if my mom hadn’t called, we would have been there all night hanging those stupid signs!

At home there was plenty of hot food to enjoy, as I let my body relax after a long day of serious hard work.  Thankfully I did not have to work Boxing Day, probably the longest most tiring day of the whole year.  I therefore had two whole days to relax, watch movies, and spend time with the family.

On that note, I wish all of you a Merry  Christmas.  Whether you celebrate the holiday or not, be safe and warm this season.  And most important I hope you all make it home on time and don’t have to stay late hanging signs!

SANTA

Part 254: You Don’t Need To See My Identification

RECORD STORE TALES Part 254:  You Don’t Need To See My Identification

In Ontario, to sell any used goods to a pawn shop or used CD store like ours, you had to present valid, government issued photo ID. That was the law, even though many of my customers thought I made that up just to be a prick. No; that was indeed the law. I couldn’t buy a used stick of gum from you without a driver’s license, passport, or other form of official photo ID.

One day, I was buying some discs from a man, and we just needed his ID to finalize the deal. Upon asking to see it, this exchange occurred:

Me: I just need a piece of photo ID from you.

Him: I have a membership.

Me: …I’m sorry?

Him: I have a membership here.

Me: I’m not sure what you mean. We don’t have “memberships”.

Him: Whatever it’s called. I’m in your system.

Me: That may be but I still need your ID to prove you are who you say you are.

Him: But I’m a member.

Me: I really don’t know what you mean. I’ve been working here for years and even I’m not a “member”!

Another time, I asked a fellow for identification, and it went down something like this:

IDMe:  I’ll just need a piece of ID and your signature.

Him:  ID?  What for?  They’re not stolen.

Me:  That’s the law in Ontario.  I can’t buy anything used off anybody unless they show me ID.

Him:  Like a license?  Will my driver’s license do?

Me:  Yup, sure will.

Him:  Alright, I’ll drive home and get it, I’ll be back in 10.

So he left, and I’m standing there thinking, “What an idiot. What if a cop pulled him over?” Why wouldn’t you just put your wallet in your pants so you have it with you?

Then there were the paranoid ones.  They were rare but they were out there, occasionally surfacing, to raise funds by selling off CDs or DVDs.

Me:  And I just need a piece of ID.

Him:  Don’t got any.

Me:  None?  Nothing at all?  Driver’s License, Health Card?

Him:  Nope.  I don’t want the government knowing my affairs.

Nor did he want them to know he was selling off his Tammy Wynette albums, I suppose.

Bottom line:  I was surprised how many people in this fine city walk  (and sometimes drive) around without any sort of identification on them.  Just an observation, is all, from the front lines of the record store.

Part 253: Angry Man Go Boom!

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RECORD STORE TALES Part 253:  Angry Man Go Boom!

September 6, 2005.

It was 11 am. Sales were slow so far on this first post-summer morning. I was feeling fantastic after a perfect night’s sleep. I only had one customer in the store. He was a somewhat odd fellow, late 30’s, liked to look stuff up in the computer, write it down, and then not buy it. Different strokes for different folks, I say. All the bosses were in the back office, as is typical. I was listening to Jethro Tull, Elvis Costello, and Max Webster. Nothing later than 1981, of course.

In walks our main character to this story. He’s a tall fellow, very tall, but even now I can’t quite put his face into focus. I can’t even clearly recall if he had a beard or not. I do remember his height, because he towered over me when I stood next to him. In his hands was a copy of Shaggy’s Hot Shot-Remixed album.

To get the proper effect, please read all of his dialogue in a Jamaican accent, a forceful Jamaican accent.  He was holding the Shaggy CD in his hands, and I saw our price tag on it.

“Yo, I bought this one but…it’s not the right one. Can I get somethin’ else?”

“Sure, just take a look around if you want. Do you have the receipt?”

His eyes got wide, he smiled a huge toothy “just ate the cat” smile, and then said, “Ahh man, I think I lost it somewhere.”

The price tag looked quite worn, it could have been purchased some time ago. We had our exchange policy: 7 days (+ an unspoken 7 more days just to avoid hassles). We also needed a receipt for all exchanges except in special cases.  All of this was clearly stated on the store signage as well as the lost receipt.

“Ahh, see, we need to have the receipt for all exchanges. Sorry man…”

“Ahh come on man! You remember me buying this thing don’t you?”

“Actually, no, I don’t, not really, without a receipt…”

“Ahh come on man I just want to switch it!”

Prior to this I was on the sales floor. I walked behind the counter, and said, “Without a receipt, I can’t do that.  The best I could do would be to buy it back from you.” I motioned for him to hand me the CD.

“Huh?” He handed me the CD. I opened the jewel case and examined the condition of the disc.

“I could buy it back from you used.”

Shaggy was quite scratched indeed. I chose not to say anything about it, since he’d claim he bought it like that. They always say that whether they did or didn’t, so my saying anything about it wouldn’t help. However, to buy it back in that condition normally we would give less, to cover the cost of having the CD buffed back to a new finish. I chose not to do that either, since I was being a hard ass on the rules I’d cut him a break on the condition.

“I can give you four dollars for this.”

“What?” Eyes go wide again. “I just want to switch it man, I’m the customer!”

“I know, but as I said, I can’t do that for you. What I can do is give you four dollars for that CD, but that’s the best I can do.”

“You know what, I’m the customer, and [accent gets too thick for me to continue]…”

Then, he took the CD in his hands, jewel case and all, and crushed it.  Pieces went flying everywhere. He stomped to the door, where he stood in the doorway and yelled “I am the customer!”

Out he went.  There was this moment of awkward silence. Then, the man at the lookup computer (who I’d forgotten all about) chimed in.

“So, let me get this straight. You were going to give him $4 for that CD.  Then he crushed it. Now he can’t get anything for it. How did that guy think that was a good idea?”

Took the words out of my mouth.