A Brief History of Rock n Roll in 13 Tracks
by Anna Merlan
- I was 19 years old and transcribing tapes as a part-time job in college. I was desperate to stop transcribing tapes; a new client had recently given us 40 hours of sessions with her psychic, which ranged from stupid to banal to exuberantly racist. (The psychic claimed to channel a “spirit guide” with a name that was something like “Big Chief White Feather” who spoke in pidgin English.) I could not listen to a single additional hour of the psychic, so I wandered into Streetlight Records in downtown Santa Cruz, California, and asked for an application. I cannot remember if I ever actually filled one out or just talked to Dave, a strikingly handsome and artistically grimy painter who was working the register at the time. I cannot even recall if we discussed my music knowledge or not, but for some reason Dave decided I would be a good record store clerk, he said something to Roger, the store’s forever manager, and a few days later, I was hired. I stayed for five years.
- By that time, I had worked retail jobs for a few years and had some experience with the highs and lows of human behavior. (The latter endpoint: the lady who would come into a clothing store where I worked and start weird fights, including once memorably threatening to “take a shit on the floor” when I wouldn’t let her use the staff bathroom. I invited her to try that out and see how it went for her; she left in a fury.)
- The behavioral rules at most retail establishments are clear: you’re pleasant, neutral, helpful, and the customer, generally and within reason, is right.
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