retail

#1220: The Maxell Tapes and the Rules of Acquisition

RECORD STORE TALES #1220: The Maxell Tapes and the Rules of Acquisition

The year was 1997.  We carried blank tapes at the Beat Goes On, and had for some time.  I believe in 1997 we were carrying Maxell tapes of various grades.  After that, we switched to Sony.  We only carried two lengths, which were the most popular:  60 minutes, and 90 minutes.

We sold them as singles, and we also created “bricks” of three tapes, by using Scotch tape to package them together.  We would sell the “bricks” for a discount compared to single tapes.  Obviously with this being so long ago, I cannot remember the exact pricing, so let’s say it went like this:

  • Maxell UR60 – $1.59 each
  • Maxell UR90 – $1.99 each
  • 3 pack brick of Maxell UR60 – $3.99 each
  • 3 pack brick of Maxell UR90 – $4.99 each

We also sold the Maxell XL-II tapes which were more expensive, but let’s keep things simple for these purposes.  We’ll just talk about the UR tapes.

One afternoon, we were running low on tapes and waiting for a restock order.  I had sold out of the UR90 bricks, but still had some singles for sale.

A girl walked up to the counter and asked if she could get a deal if she bought three Maxell UR90 tapes.  I said sure, and grabbed my calculator so see what it would be.  I punched in some numbers, and didn’t check my math.  Having clumsy fingers, I have learned I need to punch in numbers twice when adding on a calculator, but back then I wasn’t in this habit.

“$5.99 for three tapes,” I told her.

“Sounds good,” she said.  We processed the transaction and she left happily with her three Maxell UR90 tapes.

Only then did I realize that I charged her more than the three tapes would have sold for originally.

“Damn!!” I said out loud.  I ripped her off.

We had a saying for when we ripped off a customer, either on purpose or by accident.  (An example of “on purpose” would include selling a “used” copy of a CD as “new”, which we sometimes did when a sufficiently mint “used/new” copy came in.)  The saying was this:

“Pure profit.”

Like a Ferengi reciting the rules of acquisition, I consoled myself with the knowledge that the bossman made an extra three cents that day on some Maxell blank tapes.

FERENGI RULES OF ACQUISITION (which the Beat Goes On usually followed where applicable):

 

Number Rule Episode
1 Once you have their money, you never give it back. DS9: “The Nagus“, “Heart of Stone“; PRO: “First Con-tact“
3 Never spend more for an acquisition than you have to. DS9: “The Maquis, Part II“
6 Never allow family to stand in the way of opportunity. DS9: “The Nagus“; ENT: “Acquisition“
7 Keep your ears open. DS9: “In the Hands of the Prophets“
8 Small print leads to large risk. LD: “Parth Ferengi’s Heart Place“
9 Opportunity plus instinct equals profit. DS9: “The Storyteller“; LD: “Hear All, Trust Nothing“
10 Greed is eternal. DS9: “Prophet Motive“; VOY: “False Profits“
16 A deal is a deal. DS9: “Melora“
17 A contract is a contract is a contract… but only between Ferengi. DS9: “Body Parts“
18 A Ferengi without profit is no Ferengi at all. DS9: “Heart of Stone“, “Ferengi Love Songs“
21 Never place friendship above profit. DS9: “Rules of Acquisition“; PRO: “First Con-tact“
22 A wise man can hear profit in the wind. DS9: “Rules of Acquisition“; VOY: “False Profits“
23 Nothing is more important than your health… except for your money. ENT: “Acquisition“
31 Never make fun of a Ferengi’s mother. DS9: “The Siege“
33 It never hurts to suck up to the boss. DS9: “Rules of Acquisition“, “The Dogs of War“
34 War is good for business. DS9: “Destiny“, “The Siege of AR-558“
35 Peace is good for business. TNG: “The Perfect Mate“; DS9: “Destiny“
45 Expand or die. ENT: “Acquisition“; VOY: “False Profits“
47 Don’t trust a man wearing a better suit than your own. DS9: “Rivals“
48 The bigger the smile, the sharper the knife. DS9: “Rules of Acquisition“
57 Good customers are as rare as latinum. Treasure them. DS9: “Armageddon Game“
59 Free advice is seldom cheap. DS9: “Rules of Acquisition“
62 The riskier the road, the greater the profit. DS9: “Rules of Acquisition“, “Little Green Men“, “Business as Usual“; LD: “Parth Ferengi’s Heart Place“
74 Knowledge equals profit. VOY: “Inside Man“
75 Home is where the heart is, but the stars are made of latinum. DS9: “Civil Defense“
76 Every once in a while, declare peace. It confuses the hell out of your enemies. DS9: “The Homecoming“
91 Your boss is only worth what he pays you. LD: “Old Friends, New Planets“
94 Females and finances don’t mix. DS9: “Ferengi Love Songs“, “Profit and Lace“
95 Expand or die. VOY: “False Profits“; ENT: “Acquisition“
98 Every man has his price. DS9: “In the Pale Moonlight“
102 Nature decays, but latinum lasts forever. DS9: “The Jem’Hadar“
103 Sleep can interfere with… DS9: “Rules of Acquisition“
109 Dignity and an empty sack is worth the sack. DS9: “Rivals“
111 Treat people in your debt like family… exploit them. DS9: “Past Tense, Part I“, “The Darkness and the Light“
112 Never have sex with the boss’ sister. DS9: “Playing God“
125 You can’t make a deal if you’re dead. DS9: “The Siege of AR-558“
139 Wives serve, brothers inherit. DS9: “Necessary Evil“
168 Whisper your way to success. DS9: “Treachery, Faith and the Great River“
190 Hear all, trust nothing. DS9: “Call to Arms“
194 It’s always good business to know about new customers before they walk in your door. DS9: “Whispers“
203 New customers are like razor-toothed gree-worms. They can be succulent, but sometimes they bite back. DS9: “Little Green Men“
208 Sometimes the only thing more dangerous than a question is an answer. DS9: “Ferengi Love Songs“; PRO: “First Con-tact“
211 Employees are the rungs on the ladder of success. Don’t hesitate to step on them. DS9: “Bar Association“
214 Never begin a business negotiation on an empty stomach. DS9: “The Maquis, Part I“
217 You can’t free a fish from water. DS9: “Past Tense, Part I“
223 Unknown, but presumably concerned the relationship between “keeping busy” and “being successful”. DS9: “Profit and Loss“
229 Latinum lasts longer than lust. DS9: “Ferengi Love Songs“
239 Never be afraid to mislabel a product. DS9: “Body Parts“
263 Never allow doubt to tarnish your lust for latinum. DS9: “Bar Association“
285 No good deed ever goes unpunished. DS9: “The Collaborator“, “The Sound of Her Voice“
289? Shoot first, count profits later. LD: “Old Friends, New Planets“
Unknown A man is only worth the sum of his possessions. ENT: “Acquisition“

From the Star Trek Memory Alpha wiki

 

#1195: No Smoking? No Second Date!

RECORD STORE TALES #1195: No Smoking? No Second Date!

Disclaimer:  I have never held it against anyone, be it a friend or girlfriend, who smoked.  Very rarely, I expressed my distaste for the habit, which was met with angry rebuttals, but I never practised any kind of discrimination based on smoking.  I even allowed smoking in my car.  We’ll get there, and you’ll understand why when we do.

Working at the Beat Goes On, lots of the employees smoked.  The breaks were frequent, but I let it slide.  It did bite one of my employees, Matty K, in the ass one day.

Matt’s parents were British, and his mum had the most lovely accent.  She called for him one day while he was out having a cigarette.

“I’ll go get him, he’s just outside having a smoke,” I informed her.  She thanked me, and I went outside to hand Matt the phone.

After he completed his call with his mother, he told me that she didn’t know he smoked.  Until now.

Hah.  That’s still funny.  I don’t know what happened at home after that, but I can say that it was I that outed him to his mother.

Truth be told, I can’t remember who smoked and who didn’t, but it seemed like all of them smoked with the exception of a few.  OK…I admit to one thing.  I was always jealous that they got to go outside for a break, a seemingly pleasurable experience, and I didn’t.  I felt like pretending to take up the habit just to get breaks when I wanted them, but knew I couldn’t fake it.

T-Rev was a smoker, and I lived with him for six months.  I couldn’t have hated smoking that much.  I lived in a smoking house.  I did have to clean out his ashtrays myself.

In 2000, the Kitchener-Waterloo region banned indoor smoking, in a test project that would be adopted province-wide in 2006.  I thought it was a great idea, though some of my co-workers sure didn’t.  Bingo halls and bars saw a temporary decline in sales, but the bounce happened quickly.  Now it’s so natural to see people smoking outside, we don’t even think of it anymore.  In 2000, however, it was new and unique to my region.

And, for some reason, I couldn’t seem to find a local girlfriend.  They were all long distance.  As an added bonus, most of them didn’t drive.  However, I did have one date with a girl from Toronto who drove.  I was working at our Cambridge store at that point in the story, which was T-Rev’s store.  Meanwhile, T-Rev was in Ajax building a new store.  With hindsight it was a pretty messed up way to run your staff.  You had a perfectly good store manager in T-Rev, who was familiar with the layout and the clientele, but they shipped him off to a town two hours away to work with his hands.  Trevor was made all kinds of promises about how he wouldn’t be working behind a counter anymore, and he’d be building 10 new locations a year.  Yet they hedged their bets, and didn’t hire a new manager for his store.  Instead they had me manage two at once.  I was exhausted, but this girl from Toronto was willing to meet me after work and go out for dinner.  She drove!  How could I say no to that?

I remember being a little freaked out, that for all I knew, she could be a dude, but I decided that I was just being paranoid.

She was not a dude.  She was taller than me, with black hair in a short bob.  She was definitely out of my league.  She had a black leather jacket.  It was spring, and it was still warm outside.  We met up in the parking lot of an East Side Mario’s nearby.  We did the customary hug and headed to the restaurant.

She turned to me and asked, “Can we get a table in the smoking section?”

“No such thing!” I told her.  “Indoor smoking is banned here.”

“WHAT.”  I’ll never forget that.  Just a totally flat, unimpressed WHAT.

To make up for the lack of indoor smoking, I joined her outside when we wanted a cigarette.

It didn’t help.  There was no second date.  And I blame the no smoking, despite being out of my element.

Of course, we all know the happy ending to the story.  I married a smoker, but Jen eventually quit in 2008.  Her dad was very proud of her.  She hasn’t had one since.

I’ll tell you a secret that I’ve never shared with anyone before.  My parents do not know.  This is new information for the world.

When we were dating, I got sick and tired of the frequency of her smoke breaks.  I remember putting her through Star Wars: The Phantom Menace, and she smoked every 15 minutes, I kid you not.  Every 15 minutes.

Driving to the lake, she wasn’t so bad.  She could go 30 minutes.  We stretched it to 45, but eventually I got so sick and tired of having to stop for smoke breaks, that I just let her smoke in my car.  My new car.  My new leased car.

Sorry dad.

 

 

 

 

#1194: You got exactly two words of that right.

RECORD STORE TALES #1194: You got exactly two words of that right.

I have a soft spot for Ian Gillan and Roger Glover’s Accidentally on Purpose.  The Deep Purple Pair had a writing partnership dating all the way back to the 1960s and a band called Episode Six.  Before Ian was fired from Deep Purple in 1988, he and Roger emerged from the sessions for The House of Blue Light with an excess of stifled creativity.  These lighter, more summery tuned formed the basis for their only duo album.  I found it on cassette in the mid-90s, right when I was seriously collecting Deep Purple for the first time.

It’s not rock.  There are some songs that do rock a bit, but it’s more like fun pop with roots in rock and prog.  There’s saxophone, and loads of programming.  Very 1980s.  It took a couple listens to adjust to this distinctly non-Purple album, but once certain songs like the floaty “Clouds and Rain” and the funky “Evil Eye” started to hit, they stuck.  Programming aside, you’ll hear some cool instrumentation and musicianship on this album.  Eventually, I grew to like it.  As soon as I found out the CD reissue had three bonus tracks that were not on the cassette, I upgraded, as I often do.

The bonus tracks included a song that would have worked on a corny 80s Beach Boys album, called “Cayman Island”.  It also had a sax-heavy cover of “Purple People Eater” which is the definition of guilty pleasure.

Shortly after I bought the CD, a used copy came into stock at the Beat Goes On.  It always happened that way.  If you bought something new, you’d see a used copy a matter of weeks later.  It was eerily inevitable.  Of course, when that used copy came in, I threw it into the rotation for store play one afternoon.

A guy walked up to the counter, intrigued by the music.

“What’s this that we’re listening to right now?” he asked.

I was thrilled to have someone ask!

“This is a side project by Ian Gillan and Roger Glover from Deep Purple,” I answered with inner glee, but also some trepidation as I’d personally prefer to keep listening to it!

He responded, “Roger Waters from Pink Floyd?“

What…?  No!  No!  You got just two words of that right: “Roger” and “from”!

He sulked away upon learning it was not Floydian music.  No sale that day!

Musical Odds n’ Sods: A Grab A Stack of Rock Collection

GRAB A STACK OF ROCK With Mike and the Mad Metal Man
Episode 88: Musical Odds n’ Sods: A Grab A Stack of Rock Collection

We have had our first bump in the road with our 50 Years of Iron Maiden series:  Mike had come down with his second case of Covid.  Fortunately, we have been prepared for occurrences such as this, and we have already pre-recorded an episode to buy us a week if necessary.  This is that week:  Welcome to Musical Odds n’ Sods!

In this episode you will see topics including:

  • Fake KISS Autographs
  • Vertigo Records in Ottawa and Japanese Deep Purple imports
  • Record Store Tales
  • A Day in the Life of a Record Store Guy
  • Tom’s frozen winter beater car
  • Hot Wheels ZZ Top Eliminator car
  • Beat Up in a Mascot Suit
  • Metallica’s Fan Can #4
  • Secret method for unwrapping CDs
  • Record Store Photo Gallery
  • Unboxing 7 Japanese import CDs from Discogs
  • Unboxing Sloan Twice Removed box set
  • Dr. Kathryn Ladano “Evil Kirk” animation attempts
  • Iron Maiden – Seventh Son of a Seventh Son MuchMusic interview (1988)
  • Easter eggs

I have to admit, I enjoy watching this episode myself.  There is so much variety here to enjoy.  Join me in the comments tonight!

 

Friday January 31 at 7:00 P.M. E.S.T. / 8:00 P.M. Atlantic.   Enjoy on YouTube.

#1172: Top 5 Storeplay CDs – A Personal List

A sequel to #167:  Top Five Albums That Got Us In Shit At The Record Store
and #27:  Store Play

RECORD STORE TALES #1172: Top 5 Storeplay CDs – A Personal List

Let it be said:  The Beat Goes On had a lot of rules about what could and couldn’t be played in store.  You couldn’t scare off Grandma, shopping for the new NSync CD for the grandkid.  Therefore, Metallica’s Black Album was banned from store play.  Musicals, classical, and a large chunk of rap (language!) was banned.  Certain bands were banned outright:  Kiss & Rush.  (Tell me that wasn’t personal against me!)  Therefore, any time I could break the rules when bosses were not around, I would try to get away with playing music that I actually liked.

Another rule stated that you must pick five CDs of different genres, put them in the changer, and hit shuffle.  Me?  I preferred listening to albums, not shuffles.  But I was a good little employee 97% of the time.  This story is about the other 3%.

Here is a list of my Top 5 CDs that I loved playing at the Beat Goes On, whether it was allowed or not.

5. DIO – Holy Diver 

Most definitely NOT allowed to be played in store!  I didn’t care.  The boss man was out of town one day in 1996, and I knew I wouldn’t be caught by anyone that mattered.  Tom Morwood, who worked at our Waterloo store, popped in that afternoon to check out our jazz section.  We had just opened a few months earlier.  Upon hearing Holy Diver blasting from the speakers, Tom remarked:  “Holy Diver?  Wow.  That’s ballsy man!”

I didn’t own Holy Diver yet and I was checking it out for myself.  There was a lot to love, such as “Caught in the Middle” and “Don’t Talk to Strangers”.  I also played The Last In Line around the same time, and loved “Egypt (The Chains Are On)”.  It was a great way to discover classic music.  Which, of course, wasn’t the point of working in a used music store and trying to sell CDs.  “Nobody buys Dio,” reasoned the boss.  In ’96, he wasn’t too far off.  But I didn’t get caught.  Tom wouldn’t rat me out.

4. BLUE RODEO – Just Like A Vacation

This 1999 double live album came out when I was running two stores at the same time.  I was in charge of my own store on Fairway Road, but that summer I was also managing T-Rev’s store in Cambridge.  He was off helping put a new franchise together in (I think) Ajax Ontario, and I wasn’t given much choice in the matter.  I suppose it was a great compliment and a testament to management’s confidence in me, to give me two stores to run, but it sucked.  I felt like I was in exile when I wasn’t at my own store.

When this was a new release, I listened to both discs in sequence.  The acoustic balladeering and jams of Blue Rodeo really helped soothe that homesick feeling.  It’s a fabulous album.  In particular, the live version of “The Dimestore Greaser and the Blonde Mona Lisa” really hit.

3. MARILLION – Radiat10n

Same location, back in exile, but a different summer.  I discovered Marillion in 2000.  I had heard some of the Fish era stuff, but not the Hogarth.  This controversial album was on the shelves, so I put it in the player.  Mark Kelly looked a little weird on the inside, with the designs painted on his bald head, but let’s give it a shot.  By the end of the shift, I knew I was going to buy it.  I put in on a shuffle with four other discs.

As soon as it came on, I said, “Ah this must be the new Marillion singer.”  Steve Hogarth perked up my ears. Several songs jumped out immediately:  “Cathedral Walls”, “Under the Sun” and “The Answering Machine” in particular.

While my bosses might have scolded me and said “Don’t play Marillion, you’re not going to sell any!” a decades long obsession began by playing it in store.  So there you go.  The balance sheet doesn’t reflect that kind of lifetime impact.

2. The Candidates – Meet The Candidates

This Cambridge band included bassist/vocalist Neil McDonald, who also worked at our Cambridge location.  I genuinely loved this album he made with the Candidates.  Many of the songs connected with me in a big way, such as “Barely Bruised”.

They didn’t love that I played this frequently in store.  It was for sale, but it was unlikely that I would make a sale just by playing it.  People liked buying CDs with bands and songs they already knew, generally.  I was given a pass because, frankly Neil was favoured by management.

The reasons I played this in store so frequently are really simple.  One, I genuinely loved and connected with this album.  There are still songs, such as “Who’s Your Daddy Now?” that still connect with me.  “Sold your soul for a photograph, I tore it up and had the last laugh.”  I burned some bridges when I started Record Store Tales, and while I don’t know for sure that Neil was upset with me, I think it’s pretty likely.  I’m sorry about that – I’ll always think fondly of him and this band.

1.    – The Box Set

The closest I came to a breaking point, before I finally quit the store, was when I was working (exiled) to a miserable location in Oakville Ontario.  I have written extensively about this experience.  The customers were generally snooty and holier than thou.  A story about an asshole lawyer was a favourite with early readers of Record Store Tales.

The only good thing about Oakville was that I was working alone all day, and no bosses came there.  It was like working in another province, such were the frequency of the visits from head office.  The drive was really difficult and the mental health situation was not good.

And so, I played all five discs of the Kiss Box Set in sequence.  Because fuck you, boss.

Best song exclusive to the box at the time:  “Doncha Hesitate”, a classic sounding Kiss demo featuring all four original members, intended for Destroyer.

Had I been caught, I would have been given a boatload of trouble. But mental health is a thing too, and stuff like this helped keep me sane during a difficult few months managing two stores at once.  I was pushed so close to the edge, that it was a matter of luck that I survived.  And Kiss.  And that’s not hyperbole.  Playing the music I loved made the experience survivable, and that’s barely.

Thank you Kiss.

And that’s the list.  I hope you enjoyed this trip down memory lane.

#1169: Discontinuing the Tapes

RECORD STORE TALES #1169: Discontinuing the Tapes

In 1995, the writing was on the wall.  After struggling for years as a new CD/tape store, the boss discovered a goldmine:  selling used CDs.  The story has been told a dozen times or more, but the short version is this.  In early 1994, the boss brought a small tray of used CDs into the store, priced them, and they sold out immediately.  I think the discs came from his own collection with a few from his brother.  He realized that he could buy used CDs from the public for a few bucks, and then flip them for double or triple the price.  The hunger days ended soon after.

Profit margins on new CDs and tapes was slim.  After you factor in shipping, overhead, paying the part-timers, and an expensive magnetic security system, the boss was left with little for himself, if nothing at all.  He could not survive like that forever.  With used CDs, he could control his own costs.  This was something rare in retail.  Costs are usually determined by your supplier.  You could negotiate for better rates, but it was nothing compared to used CDs.  We could pay five or six bucks for a CD, and sell it for ten or twelve bucks.

You know what happened next.  Expansion!  Waterloo opened, followed by a second store in Kitchener.  These stores had 90% used stock, with a small chart for new releases.  They didn’t carry cassette tapes, at all.  While this surprised me, it was a smart move.  We were ahead of the curve by not carrying cassettes in those stores.   We didn’t even carry used tapes.  For one, it was harder to check them for quality compared to CDs.  For second, it simplified things greatly by only focusing on discs.  One product, one display system, one storage system.  You could take the disc out of the case, hide it behind the counter, and put the empty case on the shelf.  The security system was replaced in this simple way.

Eventually the original Stanley Park Mall store had to close.  Rent in malls is higher than that in plazas.  It was the only store that still carried a full selection of new CDs and tapes.  It closed at the end of 1995, right after Christmas.  And we weren’t allowed to tell people we were closing.  Technically, it was a move.  A new location had been procured in Cambridge.  It too was to follow the 90% used model.  Although we called it a move for the purpose of good optics, the reality was that one store closed and another very different store opened in another city.  The manager was the same, and they took the unsold stock and sold it as used, but it was a new store.

Closing Stanley Park put us in an awkward position.  In 1995, we lived in what was essentially a two format world:  CDs first and foremost, with cassettes still strong, but dying off bit by bit every year.  More and more releases were coming out on CD only.  Vinyl?  In 1994, only Pearl Jam had a mainstream vinyl release.  We carried Vitalogy on vinyl.  It was beautiful.  The boss opened a copy to look at it.  He ended up selling that one to his brother.  But what about that awkward position?  Here we were, going into the Christmas season and selling gift certificates to a small but significant number of people who still only had cassettes players.  We were selling gift certificates to people who were not going to be able to redeem them for cassettes except for a small window:  the six days following Christmas.  Many of those people had been customers for five years, since we opened.

“If someone complains about it, tell them to talk to me, I’ll take care of it.”  The boss was not the kind of person who relished giving people their money back, but I am sure he handled those cases as best he could.  We did special order cassettes for customers for a short period of time in some of these cases; they were isolated cases.  We had some cassettes returned in the new year as well, which had to be dealt with.

I do remember some angry customers.  “Where am I gonna buy my tapes now?” asked one guy who was unhappy, to say the least, that we were closing up, moving to a new location, and ceasing cassettes completely.  I suggested the HMV store at the other mall, but even they were noticeably cutting back.

For me, it was interesting to have lived through these changes in formats.  As a fan, I watched vinyl decline in importance to the point where nobody in highschool bought records anymore.  That was 1986.  Then I lived through the advent of CD, and its eventual replacement of the cassette.  I was working in the front lines at the Beat Goes On when Napster came along, and I saw shelf space once reserved for CDs now showcasing bobbleheads.

I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  All apologies to the inconvenienced!

 

#1168: Christmas Crack

A sequel to #106:  My Favourite Aunt
and #287:  Closing Time

RECORD STORE TALES #1168: Christmas Crack

Closing time at the Beat Goes On wasn’t always easy.  At 8:45, we shut down all the customer listening station and began tidying up for cashout.  If people came in during the last 15 minutes, we reminded them that we were closing soon.  Some were respectful of that, and did their shopping within the allotted time frame.  Some brought in CDs to sell at the last minute, always an irritant.  Others purposely seemed to take their time, as if to put us in our place.  “How dare they tell me, the customer, that I only have 15 minutes to shop.  I’ll take as long as I want.”  Retail employees always have to put up with the worst behaved adults, so much so that we often forget the good ones.

December 23, probably 2002, I was closing up with a newer employee name Lori.  We were closing per normal procedure, getting ready for the big chaos on December 24.  Straightening the CDs on the shelves.  Filing things away.  Shutting down the customer listening stations.  Cleaning, counting the minutes.  Having a perfectly pleasant closing.

In came a mid-30s disheveled looking woman, lugging an absolutely huge black garbage bag.

“Hey guys!  Looking for some used CDs?” she asked with a huge smile on her face.

It was never a good sign when used CDs arrived inside a huge black garbage bag.  It didn’t speak well for the quality of the discs inside.

Had the bossman/owner been there that night, five minutes before closing on December 23, he would have seen dollar signs.  I know exactly what he would have done.  He would have told the woman to put the bag on the counter, called me over, and instructed me to race through the piles and check every disc for quality.  Then we would have had to check every once for pricing and current stock, so we could make an offer.  With a garbage bag the size she brought it, we’d probably be there until close to 10 that night, especially since we would have to log each disc.  It wouldn’t have been the first time he kept me that late after closing at Christmas time.  “We will need this stock after the annual Christmas blowout,” he would have thought to himself.  As a bonus, she looked desperate, so we could lowball her too.

Not feeling like a slave to the cash register on December 23, I took the initiative and turned her away.

“You’ll have to come back tomorrow,” I said as my part-timer continued to tidy up for closing.  “We’re done at nine.”

“But it’s not nine yet!” she protested.  “Where am I supposed to get the money?”

Ah I see.  Crackhead, as I suspected when she walked in with the garbage bag.  We had a lot of those.

“Well, we’re going home…it’s the day before Christmas Eve.  All the pawn shops are closed now.  You can leave the bag here for us to look at tomorrow morning if you want to.”  I gambled that she’d say “no” to that idea.  Crackheads were not the most trusting people.

“Well can you just look at a couple of them and give me a few bucks?”

I decided that I just didn’t want to.

“Sorry.  We’re cashing out.”

Should I have looked at her discs, at least until it was time to lock the doors?  Yes, I should have.  But then we’d have to ID her, log the dics, and pack them up.  Did she even have any ID?  And I just wanted to go home.  My boss called it “old dog syndrome”.  I called it “I don’t get paid enough to deal with crackheads at closing time” syndrome.

So the unhappy woman packed up her garbage bag and lugged it out the door, off to who-knows-where.  Not to buy crack though.

Merry Christmas.

#1167: Small Talk

RECORD STORE TALES #1167: Small Talk

My dad used to tell me stories about my grandfather, his dad.  “He had the gift of gab,” said my dad.  “So do you, too.  He could have sold ice to Eskimos.”

He was right.  I’m good at small talk.  I just hate it, that’s all.

The year was 2004.  I was stuck working at the Beat Goes On location that I hated most, the Highland Road store.  It was on the wrong side of town, had a lot of crackhead customers, and there was no direct way to get there like the other stores I worked at over the years.  It was, by far, the worst store I had managed.  Small, out of the way in a little known plaza, and with the corporate office in the back.  That meant that Boss Man made it his headquarters, as did the office Bully and her lacky.  The only days I enjoyed working there were Fridays.  The office bully usually chose Friday afternoons to work with her friend at the Cambridge store.  Seniority had its privileges.  I tried to hide my improved Friday moods from my co-workers so they wouldn’t figure out how much I hated that bully.  It failed.  They all noticed I was in a much better mood on Fridays.

I remember one time the Boss Man was observing me at work.  He noted that my shoulders were hunched up when dealing with him, but when I was just working with my regular staff, I was more relaxed.  He used this as a chance to critique my management style with my subordinates.  I don’t think he ever understood that I was tense and hunched up around him because he stressed me the fuck out!  He did that to a lot of us.  Not all, but he sure could be intimidating just by standing there.  When I first started, things were different but as the chain became more successful, he changed.  The power structure had also changed.  I changed too, but for different reasons.  I was becoming worn down by the job.  Whatever the cause, I could not be relaxed around him anymore.

You could imagine how thrilled I was when he asked for a ride over to the Fairway Road store on my way home one wintry snow-covered day.  I cringed when he asked.  The last person in the world I wanted to be stuck in a car with during a snowstorm.  Well, second last.  The only person who made me more tense was the office bully.  I never had to give her a ride in a snowstorm though.

“Yeah, no problem!” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.  “Just to the store?”

“Just to the store,” he answered.  “I have some work to do there, and then I’ll get a ride from there.”

“Great!” I said with more of that fake lustre in my voice.  I was an expert at it.

I know it was 2004, because it was before Christmas, and I remember the small talk we engaged in:  the Lindsay Lohan feud with Hilary Duff.  Lohan’s debut album Speak was featured on our front chart.  Hilary Duff was out with her second album, which I actually enjoyed.  There was a rocker on there that I liked called “The Getaway”.  A rocker?  You bet.  It was co-written by James Michael of Sixx A.M.

My small talk skills were put to the test as we got in the car.  I remember the weather was bad, and he said “Just take it slow, we’re in no rush.”

Well, I was.  I wanted to get home, but I drove as carefully as I could.  I felt like he was watching every move I made as I drove.  Every lane change.  He didn’t backseat drive like others sometimes did, but he I felt his eyes on my steering wheel.

I struck up the conversation.  “So, did you hear about the feud between Lindsay Lohan and Hilary Duff?” I asked him.

“I’ve heard about it, but I don’t understand it,” he answered.  “What’s it all about?”

I explained that it started with Aaron Carter, who Duff dated before he moved on with Lohan, and then back to Duff.  That’ll do it.  They sniped at each other in the press for a while.  I tried to to explain to the boss everything I knew about the feud, which was just what I had read on the internet.  The boss listened politely, and commented that it all sounded manufactured to sell CDs.

We finally arrived.  I helped him unload his crap from my car and wished him a good night.  I went home to decompress and try to forget how depressed I actually was.

But I could small talk.  I could do it with just about anybody, given the need.  My dad was right.  It’s a gift!

 

 

 

#1157: The Lone Classic Hard Rocker

RECORD STORE TALES #1157: The Lone Classic Hard Rocker

For almost my entire tenure at the Beat Goes On, I was pretty much the only “classic hard rocker”.  By that I mean, the guy who not only liked Rush, Iron Maiden and Black Sabbath, but also Poison, Dokken, Motley Crue, Kiss, and the Scorpions.  I started in 1994, and hard rock was definitely the black sheep of the musical family back then.  The entire genre had received a hard thrashing from the new generation of bands, who had cleaned the slate and wiped the charts of the old guard.  For a little while, anyway.  When I began in 1994, hard rock was all but banned from store play.  That’s obviously a broad statement, as I distinctly recall giving a store play copy of Tesla’s Bust A Nut a shot while working with the boss.  He didn’t like it, but there was no way I was going to play Poison in the store with him around.

“Nobody’s buying that stuff,” he would say, and he wasn’t wrong.

When Trevor started later that year, he too liked a lot of hard rock bands, but he probably more into the current crop of groups.  Brother Cane, and this new snotnosed group out of the UK called Oasis.  He discovered all that Britpop stuff on a trip to England, and he was quick to adapt to electronic and dance beats too.  While he enjoyed some Poison and Motley Crue, I don’t think he would have played them in store.  I don’t think he would have called himself a hard rocker.

When I was bestowed my own store to manage in 1996, my staff gave me a nickname:  Cheeser.

The reason being, I listened to “cheesey” music, such as hard rock.  They wouldn’t give me credit for the jazz albums, or the Faith No More collection.  They only looked at the Dokken and the Brighton Rock.  I should have said, “Don’t call me Cheeser.  I’m your boss.”  Not that I was opposed to nicknames.  Many employees had nicknames of their own, but that one really bugged me.  It was unfair and it was uncool.  It was one-dimensional.  I remained the only classic hard rocker at the store.  Oh sure, one guy liked the Black Crowes.  Another guy had a soft spot for classic 70s Kiss.  They were not hard rockers in that classic “cheeser” sense.

I look back on those days, and I was very different then.  I was not assertive.  I was eager to fit in.  So, I let them call me Cheeser.

I felt like a second-class citizen due to my musical tastes.  The boss seemed to think playing a Poison in the album would lose us sales.  He wanted a family-friendly atmosphere, and I tended to be the rebel when he wasn’t around.  I was told to remove AC/DC from the CD player once.  An band that has sold about 200 million copies worldwide, incidentally, but with God as my witness, my boss hit the “stop” button one morning and took it off himself.

This is why I had low sales, I was assured.  You wanted people to linger and shop.  People would leave the store if the music was too heavy.  I only saw it happen a couple times, but no more than I saw it happen with other genres of music such as rap and dance.  It was rare you’d have a walk-out due to the music, but I will argue that hard rock did not get this reception any more than other genres.  I do remember one guy giving me credit for playing Poison’s Native Tongue one afternoon.

“I’ve never heard this before in a music store!” he said, with his compliments.

I would get the occasional surprised reaction when people would ask what the cool music I played was.  Motley Crue?  Poison?  No way!  That doesn’t sound like Poison.

Our store was very generic “music store circa late 90s early 2000s” when you walked in.  There would be music playing from the current charts, lots of indi bands with cool haircuts, and the requisite Motown, soul, and 60s albums.  Exactly the music you expected to hear, and I suppose that was the point.  If my manager reviews were poor, one of the gripes was the music I chose to play.  I broke the rules, and they made note of it.  I became quite despondent.  I would pick five CDs in the morning, that I picked for the soul purpose of not getting in shit that day, and I hit shuffle.  I’d leave them in all day.  Or, I would just leave in whatever the previous shift had playing.  I literally stopped caring, because those above me had sucked me dry.  I had no soul left.  My heart was empty.  It was time to go.

By the end, my only motivation was survival.  There was no enjoyment.  There was no challenge.  There was nothing to look forward to, except a day off.  I was dead inside.  I couldn’t care about music anymore.  The music I played in the store towards the end…I can’t remember the bands.  I seem to remember names like Death Cab For Cutie, Death From Above 1979, and Metric, but I cannot tell you if those were bands we played in the store, or bands that the staff liked.  Eventually, some of their musical tastes wore off on me.  I did buy a Killers CD, and I did buy one Bright Eyes.  If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, but I have not played either in over 15 years.

I know some of my old co-workers and staffers were surprised to hear all these revelations from me.  What can I say?  I was fakin’ it.  I was fighting, quite frankly, to stay alive at that place.  You can take that to mean whatever you like.  In those days, I was not aware of the importance of mental health.  The store was run with a real old school “pick yourself up by the bootstraps” methodology.  I remember one day, my boss handed me a business card with the name of a counselling service on it.  I didn’t ask for this, and I considered it a huge invasion of my privacy.  I also considered it an invasion of my privacy when he called my parents behind my back at their home.  Yet, when I wanted him to listen to me, the only person who could possible change my fate, he didn’t listen.  He waited to talk.  He lectured.  The bullying situation at the store had reached unacceptable levels, and he was so biased towards certain people, that I had no hope.  None at all.

I went from being the lone classic hard rocker, to completely alone.  It was a very dark time in my life.  I am sorry if my old friends do not understand why I had such anger for the people in charge.  I know I am not the only person to feel alone, but what happened, happened.  It was an emotional time and I wrote about it emotionally.  It was a necessary expulsion of bad feelings and poison.

But not Poison.  Today there’s nobody calling me Cheeser.   They might shrug and wonder why I need so much Poison, but the difference is respect.

#1136: Prophets of Disaster

RECORD STORE TALES #1136: Prophets of Disaster

A teaser for the 30th Anniversary story & video of my hiring at The Beat Goes On

From day one at the Record Store, there were always the doomsayers.  The people who expected us to go under any day now.  The prophets of disaster, who say the ship is lost.  It was almost like they wanted us to fail.

“How’s business?” people would ask.  My boss taught us to always answer this question simply.  “When people ask you how business is going, just answer ‘good’.  Don’t tell them you’re having a great day, or a slow day, or offer any details of any kind, OK?  Just say ‘business is good’.  That’s all.”  This was very shrewd.  If someone sniffed out that there was a lot of cash in the register, you could have just made your store a target for a break-in.  And, of course, you never wanted to give the impression that business was slow, even if the store was empty.  “Always look busy,” the boss told us.  “Don’t let the customers see you leaning and chatting behind the counter.  Always be filing, organising, cleaning.”

When I first started working alone in late 1994, at Stanley Park Mall, I encountered my first doomsayer.

“So, I heard you’re closing soon,” said the man as I rang in his cassette purchase.

I took a moment, and answered simple, “Not that I know of.”

“I heard this place is going to be a shoe store,” he responded.  I shook my head no.

Of course I told my boss about this encounter.  I didn’t think we were in danger, but I did think he should know what people were saying.

He shook his head.  “Mike, people have been saying that since the week I opened.  They said we wouldn’t last a month.  Then they said we wouldn’t last a year.  That was three years ago.  See, this is why I told you never to say anything other than ‘business is good’.”  Smart man.  The thing about it that bothered me is these people sometimes seemed to be taking pleasure in telling me we were going out of business.  Like, what did we ever do to you?  Lowball you on a CD you sold to us?  How about supporting your local business?

I bet those guys loved going to Future Shop to buy their music.  They always had plenty of Skynyrd, cheap.

It kept happening, when I moved to manage my own store in the Canadian Tire plaza in 1996.

“I hear you guys will be closing soon,” said one guy.

Deciding to play with him, I answered, “No, we close at 9:00.  Lotsa time.”

“No, I mean I hear you guys will be going out of business soon.”

“We just opened three months ago,” I answered, smiling politely.

“Lotsa luck,” said the guy as he left, buying nothing.

That store is still open today, in a new unit at the same plaza.

At one point, there was a rumour going around that one of the unpopular employee’s dads was going to buy us out.  A few people were spooked by that.  I considered for a moment, but told them, “I’ve seen the old beater that he drives.  He drives her to and from work.  He doesn’t look like he’s swimming in excess cash.”

This July will be 30 years since I started working at that store in Stanley Park Mall.  While we weren’t exactly winning the lottery at that location, we definitely did well enough for the owner to expand to the many locations he has today.  He could not have done that if the original store was not a success.  Thanks to a lot of hard work (including two years of dedication at that location from me), he thrived and grew.  No matter what the naysayers claimed they heard.

I really don’t get it.  We’re supposed to be supporting local.  Why did some people seem to want us to fail?  Did they find a cassette tape cheaper at Zellers?  Was it personal?  I’ll never know.