Counter Culture Part Two

It's been a while coming but people have actually asked when I will be blogging again - I know! How weird that some of you actually want to hear my inane ramblings. So, here is part 2 of 'tales from behind the counter' that I began...well...ages ago.

When last we spoke I had informed you all of my hideous ex area manager, my brush with a machete wielding shoplifter and my constant arguments with imbeciles who can't tell Saturday from Monday. And there's more? Yes, I'm afraid there is.

I often wonder how some people manage to put one foot in front of the other let alone be allowed out of their houses without full time care. Here is a brief selection of the questions I was asked whilst working behind a record shop counter...number 3 is my absolute favourite...

1. Have you got that Bob Marley and the Wheelies cd?
2. Have you got the new Robbie Williams cd? You do sell cds don't you?
3. Is this the opticians?
4. What was that song that was on Radio 1 yesterday?
5. Can I bring this back? I've recorded it and I don't like it.
6. Is that Spunky Nancy cd out? (I believe they meant Skunk Anansie)
7. Do you sell pants?
8. What cd might my grandson like?
9. If I take you out tonight can I steal some cds tomorrow?
10. Why are Hawaiian cds never number one in the charts?

So, now you have an idea of the clientele I was faced with day after day, try and think what it was like at Christmas. I arrived in the shop at 7am and often didn't leave until after 9pm. It was chaos: boxes piled high, people taking The Best Of The Beautiful South cds out of your hand before you even had a chance to put them on the shelf and trying to appease a queue full of impatient, pissed off customers with a box of Roses. 
Said queue often went the entire length of the shop and by the time people got to you they just stared like you had shat in their handbag before snatching their goods from you and stomping off secretly knowing they would be back sometime in the new year exchanging Michael Bolton for Motley Crue because it turns out they really don't know what cd their grandson would like.

When working there I had a vast array of band logo t-shirts, most of which were blagged from reps (see previous blogs about my relationships with them) and my tie dyed Levellers one was the one that caught the eye of one customer who stalked me for months. He passed notes to my colleagues to give to me, gave me dozens of mix tapes of varying degrees of scariness and regularly hid round the corner to watch me leaving. I know. Not right.
One day he actually got the courage to speak to me and leaned over the counter thrusting a t-shirt at me. "I nicked this from Bolton for you" he leered as I held out a rather cool limited edition Pearl Jam and mumbled thanks. 
His final note to me stated that his friends would torture him if he didn't ask me out. I moved to America shortly afterwards. Read into that what you will.

There is much much more, but next time I think, we should crank it up a gear. I shall share some tales from when I worked at EMI Records. Oh yes I spent almost two years getting paid a lot of money for schmoozing rock stars. Bet you can't wait.