Well, well, well. So you stroll into this here guitar shop on a Friday and have the audacity to ask to try that Gibson Custom Shop 60th Anniversary Les Paul hanging up on the wall?
We’ve known each other for many years, but this is the first time you come to me for counsel. How long have you been coming into this store? And yet, I can’t remember the last time you invited me to your rehearsal space for a jam session. Even though my girlfriend drew the album art to your only EP.
Let’s be frank: you never wanted my friendship. You were afraid to receive my inevitable condescension. You know, I heard from one of my associates that you recently purchased a Telecaster. Why did you look on Craigslist– why didn’t you come to me first?
You don’t ask for respect, you don’t offer friendship. You don’t even think to call me a virtuoso. Instead, you come into my store on the one day this week I had to wake up before noon and ask to play that expensive, exquisite Les Paul.
This, I cannot do. That is not justice.
Alas, it’s a tradition that no guitar store employee can refuse a customer’s request during their first shift of the week. So how about this- I’ll get a primo Epiphone Les Paul down from the rack, you take it to the back, and ask my amp department partner Clemenza for a cable. He’ll plug you into a real nice Fender Hot Rod Deluxe and everything will be alright.
Do you spend time above the 12th fret? Good. A guitarist who doesn’t spend time above the 12th fret is not a real guitarist. Someday (and that day may never come), I may call upon you to mix some tracks for me. But until that day, accept this Epiphone to try out. May your first Les Paul be a very lightweight Les Paul.
Wait, what do you mean you’re “not trying to actually buy one today?” How’s about I make you an offer you can’t refuse?