I recently embarked on an adventure of sorts with my friend Liz. She was bored at her cubicle job and daydreaming about purchasing a new guitar so she could learn. Was I interested in helping? Um, is Kim Kardashian a plastic surgery experiment of the most public kind? (The correct answer is "Duh".)
I immediately began firing off mid-price-range options for her to review and she settled on a choice between a solid little acoustic-electric Epiphone or the Dean Exotica model I've played since I learned several years ago. She picked me up to take me to Guitar Center with her after she got done work, and I noticed a battered black acoustic sitting in the backseat. I raised an inquisitive eyebrow.
"I feel like it's time to give Garcia back to the universe," she said.
As a side note, Garcia is a piece of junk. He is named for Jerry Garcia and has flowers drawn on him (by Liz) and a bumper sticker that says "Don't Be a Dick" (courtesy of the previous owner) as well as a hole (not the one that's supposed to be there). She found him on a sidewalk somewhere while she was in undergrad at Penn State and took him. Now, Garcia falls out of tune too easily (read: by the time you tune the G, B, and e strings the E, A, and D strings are out of tune again) and to preserve Liz's sanity, she was passing him back.
The second we arrived at Guitar Center, we were swooped down on like prey by a fuzzy haired guy with a ponytail'd beard that would put some of the guys of Middle Earth into a frenzy of envy. (Tangent: I have a problem with this part of retail work. I dreaded it as a Kitchen Collection employee and I loathe it as a customer literally ANYWHERE. If I want your help, I will seek you out. If not, please do not accost me the moment I walk in the door). He asked if we needed any help and before I could finish my "No thank you, we're just browsing," Liz said, "Well, I'm looking for an acoustic-electric," and our not-so-helpful guide went, "Right this way," and led her to the Acoustic Corral, leaving me torn between rolling my eyes at that name and trying to glare at my friend for making the fatal retail mistake.
For the next HOUR AND A HALF we stood trapped in polite captivity, with this Sean character-- no, he probably spells it like Shaun or Shawn or some other equal abomination-- as he fiddled around on guitars instead of listening to anything she specified wanting. He instead tried to pawn off a crappy Yamaha guitar with a fuller body.
"This is really the guitar I would get."
"No, I want a Dean I think."
"We don't have those here."
"Or this Epiphone."
"I'd really get this Yamaha."
"I don't want a guitar made by a company who makes dirt bikes."
"This is a great guitar-- look at the fuller body."
"Dude, have you seen THIS fuller body? I don't need that!"
"I just think the Yamaha is the better guitar for the price."
"It doesn't feel right. I don't like the sound. I want the Epiphone."
Round and round they went. I had to leave several times. First it was to peruse the lefty section, which boasted a whopping four guitars (SO many choices!) and then I wandered into Drum World, only to be pounced on by a pretty helpful guy who helped me pick out a drum set (some day...). I reentered the Corral to find Liz and this Shaun character debating the merits of hard versus soft cases.
"Well, I don't really sell a lot of this guitar. I think you should probably just take a soft case."
"No, I want a hard case."
"I don't know if it will fit. See, now the Yamaha guitar slides right into this case. If you want a hard case, your best bet is probably this guitar right here."
I don't know if this guy has stock in Yamaha or what, but I was irritated and had no idea how the usually quick-tempered Liz was maintaining any level of patience with this clown. Also, as he was saying he never sells the Epiphone, a guy sauntered up behind him and plucked the EXACT SAME GUITAR right off the wall. I felt so triumphant, internally, and then I escaped to browse records.
Liz emerged, looking frazzled, with the guitar and case of her choice, and approached the counter to pay and select a capo.
"I would also like a capo," I said. I needed another one to keep with my Les Paul so I didn't have to go fishing around the other case trying to find one all the time-- or worse, worry about forgetting it.
"I'm going to recommend this one right here," Shaun said. "This has a year warranty and it's the best capo. I think."
"No, I want the Keyser one. I have one just like it at home already and I'll just stick with what I'm comfortable with."
"No, see, this one is the same price and it's better."
"Really, thank you, I'll just get the same one I have."
"Well I'll let you think about it."
"Um?"
"See, this rubber portion on the back here, the grip...It tends to come off over time."
"I've had the same capo for 5 years and I play with it more often than not. It won't come off."
"No, but see, it comes off over time."
"Really, I'm not fussed about it. I'm taking the Keyser. Thank you." I looked up to see Liz staring at us with a look like "This guy!"
Liz got talked into the other capo I snubbed and we escaped from a generally joyless trip to Guitar Center.
Epilogue: After dragging her to a school board meeting I had to cover for the paper following our excursion to get a guitar, I proposed wings at Big Shot Bob's, which provided the perfect locale to leave Garcia and deposit him back to the universe. Mission complete.
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