Posts Tagged ‘ record store ’

I Like Records 14

There’s a guy who periodically come in and sells a bunch of old rock CD’s for a bunch of different old rock CD’s (example: trade in Ratt-Out of the Cellar and Aerosmith-Night in the Ruts for credit towards Deep Purple –Perfect Stranger). This guy is alright, a little down on his luck, kind of a sad sack but he’s ok. The only problem is he smells real bad. I’ve lived on tour busses that have smelled like a foot made of balls, but this guy kind of pushes the smell envelope, like the Turnpike through Elizabeth. The odd thing is it’s not the usual type of offensive smell, it’s always an odd mix. A few weeks ago it was “smokey oatmeal sweat”, last week it was “old coffee feet” and today it was “barbequed shit”. It’s always offensive, but interesting, in a nauseous way.

I Like Records 13


wanna pet a chicken

wanna pet a chicken

There was this big overweight guy who was a bit slow (no, I’m not talking about me) whose job was walking around town in chicken costume handing out fliers for a local chicken place. He had really bad posture so it looked like a giant depressed chicken stumbling through town. He would sometimes come into the store in costume (sans chicken head) look around and never buy anything. I think he was also missing a front tooth, so it was a perfect portrait of a sad sack. Every time I’d see him I’d wonder what his story was but I never wanted to actually engage him in a conversation because I suspected he was batshit crazy and it usually breaks down into five minutes of weird, interesting talk and months of uncomfortable blather. One day he came in (chicken suited) and finally talked, “Yeah, do guys have that music that’s bagpipe music with rap beats on top” I thought he could have meant Afro-Celt Soundsystem “ No, No that’s not it. It’s Scottish bagpipes, rap beats, middle eastern Japanese rhythms and rapping over everything. You know what I’m talking about” I told him I had no idea what he was talking about. “yeah, but wouldn’t it great if it existed.” And with that he was off, on his way out the door as he was putting his chicken head on he said to a woman by the front counter, “Hey lady, you wanna pet a chicken.”

I Like Records 12

A guy comes in who knows me yet I have no idea who he is (thank you, creeping dementia) and he asks me for a Neil Young record. “You know the one where there’s can-can girls dancing on the Alaskan pipeline.” The only thing that comes close was American Stars & Bars. “No…no, that’s not it. I think it’s called Songs of the Alaskan Pipeline Bars.” I told him that no such record exists. “Yeah, you guys don’t have it. Don’t worry, it’s cool. Man, I love Neil, you know that song about the waitress, he says she glides across the floor , not moves, not walks, fuckin’ GLIDES man. You know he’s fuckin’ great.”

I Like Records 11

A young guy comes in a lot and asks for 80’s metal, mostly 80’s lite-metal that we usually don’t carry, “Do You have Extreme-Ponograffitti?” “No, I’m sorry all we have is a best of Extreme, do you want me to see if I can order it?” “Nah,…you really don’t have it? That was a big record” Not in this century it wasn’t. He was also bitterly disappointed when we didn’t have Angel or Giuffria, or The Bulletboys, Firehouse, Kix, Bang Tango, Impelliterri, or Blue Murder. It’s like a murderers row of shitty music. He didn’t want to try and order any of those either, he just seemed content to be disappointed . What he doesn’t understand is that even if any of  those CD’s are in print (which is a long shot for most of them), they will never ever come into the store unless they’re special ordered . He should save his goddamned money and buy a time machine instead.

I Like records 10


Frank Sinatra the horse

Frank Sinatra the horse

I’m a Douche Bag to Customers
1) As a feeble excuse, it was first thing in the morning and I was hung over. (phone call) ” Yes, do you have Frank Sinatra-The Man?” “No, we just have Frank Sinatra the horse.” “…oh…(click)”
2) As another feeble excuse, this guy was a dick. “I’m looking for quiet jazz, do you have any quiet jazz. I’m looking for some quiet jazz to work with.” “That’s pretty vague, what do you mean.” “Something quiet but jazzy, something that would fit in an operating room, ya know.” “Well I guess you don’t something too quiet, it is an operating room and…uh…”  I’m met with an unsmiling stone face but I try to continue albeit in a stammering, flop sweat manner.  “….uh…you don’t ….want something… that know…uh you…might fall asleep to.” “How about Kenny G.?” “How about that Kenny G.?”  He  leaves without buying anything.

I like Records 9

Frownie McGhee

I originally knew this guy as “the asshole blues guy”, he would ask for really obscure, new blues stuff that were on tiny, badly distributed labels. “yeah, Simple Simon and the Blues Witchdoctors have a new CD out on Mudpie Records and I don’t see it out there. Ya know they were listed in Blueswize Magazines top 600 up and coming blues acts 3 years in a row. I can’t believe you’re not carrying it.” I always look up his stuff and explain that a lot, if not everything he was looking for was pretty much impossible to get and his best bet would be getting it on line. “So you guys don’t want my business, is that how I’m reading it.” He has one of those faces you just want to punch. It’s shaped like a guitar pick and is so pinched and frowny it‘s like frowning is his business and business is good. So here I am thinking that this guy is just a one dimensional asshole, then one day he came in with a flier for his shitty blues combo and asks to put it up. Unlike every other record store on the planet my boss doesn’t like fliers in the store. We don’t have a bulletin board, and he even balks when employees put up fliers for their own shows. We’ve been open for thirty years and it’s a known fact, no fliers. So Frownie McGhee (as he was renamed) is trying to be friendly so he can put up a flier and it’s killing him, his face wasn’t made for anything but a frown. He hands me a flier and there’s no info on it, just his stupid face, band name and the name of the bar he’s playing. There’s no date, no time and no location of the bar. I nicely explain that my boss doesn’t let people put up fliers. I let him know I think it’s a shitty policy and tell him of a few places in town where he can put them up. “yeah, but I’m a good customer.” “Everybody’s a good customer, I just explained why I can’t do it.” “I’ll just leave it here then.” He notices that there’s no info on the flier, he grabs it back and scrawls some info on it with a sharpie. It’s completely unreadable and it looks like shit. He puts it back on the counter and again “So, I’ll just leave it here then” “No man, you should take it with you.” “See if you can put it up, I’m a good customer.” “ok” We both know I’m gonna throw it out as soon as he leaves. Two weeks later it was the same deal “ Do you have the new one by Professor Crabapples Blues Strutters. Oh yeah, I didn’t see the flier up so I brought you another one.” Cue hemlock and fade to black.

I Like records 8

A woman came in looking for a fairly recent Disney movie, Snowbuddies. I went to the Disney section where her son was pawing thru the DVD’s. This kid was a giant with definite emotional problems and he was completely in the way and wrecking the joint. “Phillip! Get out of the man’s way …Phillip!” she physically dragged him away which was no mean feat. This kid was hulking and had what is unfortunately known as “retard strength”, superhuman strength unencumbered by rational thought. “He’s just really excited.” She offered as an explanation. Phillip kept pushing his mom and me out of the way to get to the movies, “Snowbuddies! Snowbuddies!” “Phillip! The man is looking, Get…Out…Of…The way!” “Snowbuddies!” I found the movie Snowdogs and just said the word “Snow” before Phillip grabbed it out of my hand, “Snowbuddies! Snowbuddies!” “No Phillip! No!…The man was wrong, the man was wrong, Phillip are you sure that’s the title?” Phillips level of franticness went off the charts and he was knocking DVD’s all over the place, it was a mess. His mom had pretty much given up trying to restrain him, she was used to this drill and was way passed embarrassed. She was resigned to it and just kept saying “phillipstop…phillipstop…phillipstop.” Eureka, I found Snowbuddies, “Here you go, Snowbuddies” I handed the DVD to Phillip and he pushed it back, “NO!…NO!” “Phillip honey, it’s Snowbuddies…Snowbudies, what you were looking for.” “NO!…NOOOO!” As Phillip was pushing it to me, I was instinctively pushing it back to him, “Look man, It’s Snowbuddies, Snowbuddies, the movie you wanted.” “NOOOO!!” He grabbed my hand with the DVD in it and pulled it  across his face, more specifically his nose. I felt moisture on my arm and realized he’d just wiped his nose on it. Aauurghh! I yanked my arm away handed the DVD to his mom, went to the back to disinfect and hide until they left.


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