leddo wrote:Sadly, some guitar store sales persons are like car sales persons...if they think you are going to spend money that day, they are your best friend in the whole world. If you don't look as if you are going to spend any money you are made as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit. I have experienced similar disinterest at a Guitar Guitar store when the guy I spoke to at first virtually ignored me to go and speak to one of his chums from a local band. But rather than throw a huffy, I continued on my quest, found a sales person who was actually interested in helping customers and bought the £800 guitar from him. The other guy's face was a picture as I stood at the till handing over the dosh. Sadly, you get good sales people and bad sales people in every type of store. Don't dismiss Guitar Guitar because of one or two cretins. The good will outnumber the bad I am sure.
Let me retell my famous guitar shop story, every word of which is true.
Back in the early 1970s, the Dallas company (trading as Dallas Arbiter by then) used to run several well-known West End music shops: Sound City and Drum City in Shaftesbury Avenue, and a smaller shop in Charing Cross Road which went under the name "Modern Sound" (the premises are still in use as a music shop to this day). Passing the CX Road store one Saturday in March 1972, I spotted a nice Burns (black) Bison hung high on the party wall, just to the right inside the window. I was in the market for a new guitar but was resigned to never getting a Marvin because Baldwin was then out of business in the UK. The 1964-style Rezotube Bison looked like an acceptable substitute, at about £80. I walked in, intending to look at and try out the Bison. But all thoughts of the Bison faded from my mind the moment I got inside because further back on the same wall was a Burns Marvin, priced at £110.
I asked if I could try the Marvin. The shop assistant, answering Geoff's description (a legend in his own mind), immediately answered my request with a question: "Are you going to buy it?". A little surprised by this turn of events, I said that I would buy it if I liked it and if we could come to a mutually acceptable deal. To my even greater surprise, he said (and this is more or less verbatim): "We don't have to fuck about with a guitar like that".
Had this been a few years earlier, when Burns guitars were still available new and more plentifully second-hand, I would have been tempted to tell him just what he could do with it, but because owning that model was a longstanding, but as yet, unfulfilled, ambition, I bit my tongue and said nothing in reply.
I bought the guitar and still have it. I even have the receipt somewhere. I've never forgotten that lippy salesperson.
Of course, Dallas went out out of the retail business a few years later...
JN