True Blues... Or a Rant.

Biking home from work today tears started rolling down my face. It wasn't the wind blowing in my eyes, even though I was riding as fast as I possibly could with out protective eye wear. It was stress. Stress brought about by the fact that for the last hour and 45 minutes of my five hour shift I was running around like a mad man. Trying to fill end caps, which was impossible because most of the titles that were meant to go on them were either down to one copy, not coming out until the following day or were just plain sold out. Throw into the mix customers that were asking for songs they did not know the proper title or artist of, people who cannot seem to figure out how to use a touch screen with a functional keyboard, and people who actually did not know if Michael Jackson has a greatest hits record sucking time normally used to do important work out of me like a vampire sucking the blood from a helpless beautiful woman.

9 o'clock, you've never seemed sooooooo faaaaaaaar away!

So it looks like we're ready to go folks! Windows clean, end caps looking almost acceptable until we get the new titles on them tomorrow. Customer's are gone! Rows are pushed back (fuck yeah!)

Let's also not forget that I have to clean the windows and fix the mess people leave in the section. It appears most customers, at the end of the night, are left with those famous last two questions: "to buy? or not to buy?" and "if I leave this here will that make me a total bitch/asshole? I mean... people work here right? I mean they get paid to almost the same thing my Mommy did when ever I was a slob of a child... right?" Let's not forget to look for [Local Super MEGA COFFEE PLACE] cups condensing on our wooden shelves.

"Oh shit... it's Monday and there are a shit-load of new releases to put out,"one man down b.t.w. because god forbid everyone working a shift actually stay the entire shift. So what we're left with is no floor manager, 3 normal employees and a guy that can't hear and doesn't usually help with new releases.

So we get out of there. I jump on my bike and start pedaling as fast I can. Through red lights, past buses and cars, I can't get far enough. All this stress. I haven't eaten a thing all day. I'm running on cigarettes, coffee and some form of back-up adrenaline.

I could have gone home early today.

But, at the same time I couldn't. I need the hours. I don't make enough money as it is. In-fact, I'm broke right now. I currently have about 20¢ in my bank account, a dollar in change and a five dollar BART ticket. I get mostly night shifts, which are shorter than day shifts (there aren't enough hours to go around.) I work Monday night, Tuesday night, maybe Wednesday night, Thurs-day and Satur-day. Because of school this will likely be my schedule all Fall/Winter, which means I'm probably gonna miss every Monday night dinner, every dudes bike ride on Wednesday night, and probably a lot of opportunities for practice with any band during the week (seeing as how there's usually a ton of shit going on Friday, Saturday night. )

The kick in the balls: I'm not making my trek to L.A. (which has been canceled twice already) this weekend to see the only person I desperately want to see (regardless of what my friends think.)

All this may sound incredibly, for lack of a better word, self-centered but, it's work that makes me this way.

-c

Day 1,211...

... of my employment at Rasputin Music San Lorenzo.

I'm writing from the comfort of my little brother's bedroom.

I'm also feeling very cold... perhaps it's the fact that my mom turned off the heater before she left this morning, or maybe it's because I rode my bike home in the pouring rain not realizing how bad the storm was, either way I'm very cold.

I guess the biggest thing on my mind (aside from wondering what terrible thing happend on my 666th day of employment: the guy that peed in my section when my replacement was late? One of my bffs transfering to the store in the meth capitol of northern California (and home of Pavement) ultimately destroying our friendship?) is how truly different working at a record store was compared to what I thought it would be like. That little short clip from Human Giant, High Fidelity, and Empire Records (gag) have been the biggest misrepresentation of what it is to be employed in line of work.

Here's something you wish you forgot!!!!!!!!

Gin Blossoms - Til I Hear It From You

Eat your heart our "Adult Contemporary!" You only exist because we didn't want our parents listening to the same stuff music as us!

(R.I.P.) Musicland, that little store in Haymont Village I never went to, and my faith in America's youth to keep me employed. (Thanks a lot My Chemical Romance exclusive download & AC/DC (I'm gonna say "Facis-Mart" (I don't wanna risk mentioning their real name on my blog or I might be put on a Government watch list)) exclusives.)

I guess this is just a rant... sooooo yeah. I hope you had a good laugh.

Sometimes You Gotta Keep it Gangsta...

...even in front of your kids.

Last night at work some kids (maybe 5 & 6) were yelling at their mom to buy something for them.
The mom replied with "I'm bout to hit you doo¹ !"

C'mon, seriously? Are you just ignorant, or are you trying to be a good parent be tough to your kids so they won't be pushed around when their older? I kinda think you're just ignorant.

Don't get me wrong. I never want kids, so I'm no one to judge this person.

The situation did, however, make me realize that the amount of shitty customers overwhelms the amount of good customers. I am so sick of our clientele accusing me of racism and asking for the same boring, over produced, strike-while-the-iron-is-hot garbage rap. I want to work somewhere where my knowledge can be put to use on a daily basis... I think it's time for a job hunt.



--c!

Come at me as crazy as you want...

...it's not gonna change the fact that this computer/scanner combo in between us says you're old c.d.s in perfect condition are worthless to the owner of my company. Remember folks... there's a ton of sting c.d.s out there... and over half of them are in the close-out section at my job, along with a million copies of, just about, every mixtape ever made.

Also if you bought it yesterday, why is it so scratched up!? And. where the hell is your receipt!?

Sanchizm! : Never shop for porno with your kids right next to you. I might get the idea that you're a horrible parent/really weird family.




Ay ay ay!

--c!

The Truest Blues Brought About By The Buy Counter...

Shortly after being hired at Rasputin Music I realized that working at a record store truly ruined one of my favourite past time of the last 14ish years... record shopping.

Everytime I walk into a record store and see something I want I can't help but think
"fuck would this be cheaper at work?"

On top of that I spend a shit load of time in a record store working... I dunno.

Maybe I should be a fireman.



--c!

Record Store Etiquette...

I know a lot of people out there have preconceived notions about record store employees being rude, jerks, or douche bags. So for the sake of my hundreds... dozens... or um... singles? of readers I type this blog.

I've come to realize, through talking to teachers (especially foreign language teachers), that many confrontations that occur between patrons and employees in places of business are because many people aren't familiar with different forms of custom, mores, code or general etiquette. Or they just plain don't read Dear, Abby. So in order to try and help the situation I will do two things...

!. Try not to assume too much about customers that "bug" me.

@. Post a list of record store etiquette ™®©Θ

Here we gooooooooooooooooooo!!!!1!!!1

1. Give it the old "college try" before you ask...
- I know my store (and stores of similar size) can be intimidating. But, I really can't stand when people come in and automatically want help (Unless it's Christmas and you have a list. (and don't talk (j/k)))

2. PUSH BACK YOUR ROWS
- It makes my store look like shit when you don't do it, and as awesome as it would be to get paid $10.50 per hour to do just this it's just annoying.

3. We don't have it.
- If I checked the new, used and, very rarely, the budget section we don't have it. I don't know when we'll get it. I can only request it. I'm not (W)houdini and hence cannot pull it out of a top hat or my ass.

4. PUSH BACK YOUR ROWS!

5. *Keep it short.
- As much as I would love to hear about how much you loved this song when you were a fair young maiden with plenty of gentlemen callers, I have lot's of stuff to do and customers to help.

6. P.B.Y.R. !

7. Don't assume we're psychic/magic.
- I wasn't rollin' in the Bentley with you when 94.9 played that song by that person that one time... call up Chuy Gomez and ask him, or get one of those phones that recognizes every time Lil Wayne farts.

8. P.B.Y.R.

9. I forgot where this goes...
-Unless you have Alzheimer's I don't believe you. We're not Walmart or Home Depot.

So guys... if you just follow these simple rules (especially 2, 4, 6, and 8), maybe you'll start
thinking we're not bad people. This post will probably be edited a lot over the coming... my employment at a record store. At least people can maybe (hopefully) google record store etiquette™®©Θ



--c!

The Race Card?

A few days ago a customer asked me if I could call the Berkeley store to see if they had a certain dvd in stock. I politely told the customer that the mgmt (har!) didn't want us doing that anymore ( it takes up the cashier's precious time.) I also informed the customer that he can call the 1-800 number and they'd be happy to check the inventory of any of our stores. The customer then got really frustrated and told me "is it that hard to pick up the phone and just call Berkeley for me!?"

This guy had a blue tooth in his ear.

I then told the customer that my manager (whom (is that the proper use?) was 10 ft away from us)) was on the phone and that it is the only phone line we have. Then he walked up to her and I walked away.

Later a friend came up to me and said the customer told my manager: "If I was the other color he would have done called for me."

Seriously guy?


I'm not white, and I know that's what he assumed. I was doing my job, and he was being a big baby crying becuase he didn't get his, lazy way. It never ceases to amaze me how many people have that card ready and waiting to use at any given time, in any situation, even for the littlest ones. This kind of thing happens all the time, at every job I've had. Maybe I should start pulling the race card too, or trying to look more... "Mexican/brown" I guess...


Just kidding, I like the surprised look on people's faces when I start speaking spanish.


--c!