Pristine

Dec 22, 2005 11:26

At 9:04AM, Richard's still hadn't unlocked their door. So we got out of the car to tap on it.

The sullen counter person came around and unlocked the door and asked if she could help us. I wanted to hit her.

I had already agreed to let Mark handle the talking, because my blood pressure had already spiked hard and I was on the verge of screaming. I didn't sleep at all last night, positive that these raging incompetents had somehow hurt Alex's yet-to-be-played cello.

I bit my lip and waited. Mark laid the work order on the counter and quietly - oh so very quietly in that deadly tone he takes on when he's well and truly pissed off - demanded that the cello be brought up immediately. She balked.

"It isn't finished yet."

I know, he said. I don't care. I want it put in my hands right now.

"We can have it finished today or tomorrow!"

No, he told her. You've had it three weeks, it's a ten minute job. Get it. Now.

"The work order only says you need it before Christmas! If it was urgent, you should have said something."

I couldn't hold my tongue anymore.

The work order says one to two weeks, and Shelley told me it would be done in a week. I have called you every other day to ask after the status, and you've been giving me the runaround. You KNEW it was urgent, or SHOULD have known by my calling you every other day and telling you I'm in a screaming panic over this not being done. Get it. Now.

"Our policy is not to return instruments we've started on until they're finished."

Mark leaned in closely. I don't care what you think your policy is, he said. You will return my instrument right now, or we'll ask the police to come in and get it for us.

She brought it up, finally, snarling and muttering "The work order only says before Christmas. Christmas isn't until Sunday!"

You've had this three weeks, Mark said.

"It's already been started, you'll have to pay for the work done."

You're not getting a dime.

I put the case up on the counter and opened it. Untouched. Pristine. Not even inspected - the velcro around the neck is still in the figure 8 I put it in after I inspected the instrument. It was too long for a single wrap. The bridge is still tied to the fingerboard with festive red ribbon - Mendini tied it to the widest part before shipping. The styrofoam insert separating the tailpiece from the face, meant to keep the tailpiece from collapsing, is intact. It was never so much as shifted.

Funny. I was always under the impression that working on an instrument required, at minimum, opening the case and taking the instrument out for inspection. Maybe even going so far as to untie the bridge and inspect it too.

Mark zipped it shut and pulled it down.

"We can have it done today or tomorrow!"

No, he said. We'll have it taken care of by people who won't lie to us.

"Well, FINE. MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

Fuck you, too.

Untouched. It has sat untouched in their back room, put off and put off and put off in spite of me calling every other day to inquire. They held my instrument, lied to me about the work being done on it (or NOT DONE, as the case may be), argued with me about giving it back, then had the nerve to get pissy about me taking it?

Nope. Not a dime. Not now, not ever, not even if every other music shop in a 50 mile radius burns to ash. I'll buy EVERYTHING on the 'net before I give those people anything but hell ever again.

The cello lies on my bed, waiting.

I got a phone call last night. Laura and Randy are in from Oklahoma!

I related the story of the cello to Laura, who said "If Richard's didn't hurt it, don't take it to Rettig. I can set the bridge and tune it. I did it at Coyle for years."

Laura and Randy, being musicians, spent lots of time in the music shops and both have learned basic strings and woodwinds repair and advanced brass repair.

They'll be here in about half an hour to hang out, have lunch, and Randy will take Alex out on "errands" while Laura does the set and tune.

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