Another anecdote from the archives...
My wife and I went to a big guitar chain store this afternoon. She sat down in a room to play around with some of the electric guitars, and I was wandering around the store. Later on, she told me this anecdote.
While she was sitting there playing, a sales guy, whom she described as having bloodshot eyes and being "Jim Breuer-esque in his delivery", came up to her describing the merits of whatever guitar she was playing. He helped other people, then came back to talk to her some more. He sat down with her, and said seriously and deliberately,...
"Look, in here, we don't sell guitars. We sell dreams."
Suppresing laughter, she nodded somberly. Inside, she knew this would be the fodder for future laughs.
These go to eleven.
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"Don't you have dreams?!?"
Reminds me of my first bass guitar lesson at DiBella's (sp?) music store on Teaneck Road in Bergenfield, near the Teaneck Armory.
Some guy with a mullet and dirty sweatpants invites me into the practice room. Hands me a bass guitar, like it's excalibur or some shit. And goes:
"Do you wanna play guitar? Do you wanna get laid? Do you wanna ... ROCK?"
I'm just thinking ... I just want to do anything to feel less like and awkward, gangly, nerdy 15 year old and more like people will like me.
She should have asked if it was his dream to be a music-store floor salesman.
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