Tales From A Record Store
Posted by bmac on July 7, 2007
In my early twenties, I worked at a record store in Studio City Ca. This would have been the mid-80’s. I was a young musician, and the dream job for aspiring future alcoholics and drug-addled rock stars was the Record Store.(cue angelic choral singing). You don’t have to cut your hair, you can listen to music all day, get all the new releases first, you know, total slacker heaven. It’s kind of weird to me that Record Stores are pretty much history now, but hey, that’s progress.
This particular Record Store was not the most fun place to work, but because of it’s location, we got a lot of celebrities in. Also, the owner, I’ll call him “Dick”, was a low-level Hollywood Director, and complete lunatic, and may have had some sort of mob ties, which made for a lot of interesting days.
Quick anecdote featuring Dick: One afternoon, I was at the counter as usual, and Dick was in the back office with a guy that I would say looked “Italian” or”like he would rip your face off with a pair of pliers.” There were probably 5 or 6 customers in the store, and you could hear the conversation in the back starting to get heated. Dick comes running out, past all the customers, through the front door, turns around, and locks the door from the outside. Locked me and the customers in the store with “rip your face off with a pair of pliers” guy, who I’ll refer to as RYFOWAPOPG for the rest of the story. Dick was a little guy, and there he was, safely outside, while I, and like 6 other people were trapped in a small store with RYFOWAPOPG,who was getting more pissed off by the second. Dick was frantically waving his arms, mouthing “Call the police” to me. Heck of a guy, Dick was. Meanwhile, RYFOWAPOPG was asking me to open the door, in let’s say, an intimidating manner. I had to explain to him I didn’t have keys to the place, and prepared to have my face removed, plier style. Thankfully, RYFOWAPOPG had mercy on me, and went in the back to call someone, probably named Pauly, or Petey. At this point, Dick opened the door, and released the hostages, who in 2007, would have sued his ass. Dick then went back outside, and kind of huddled out of sight, as RYFOWAPOPG saw daylight, and left the store. Dick instructed me to follow him and get his plate # from his car. I hesitantly tried to do this(I was young and stupid), and RYFOWAPOPG turned to me, and said “Don’t even try it” in a voice that, for dramatic purposes, sounded like Satan. That was the last I saw of him, and I still have a face to show for it.