Thank You, Guitar Center

I hate Guitar Centers. I hate chain stores. And I hate chain restaurants. I guess I hate chains. I particularly hated the guy in chains and pimples that made me wait for an hour at the Guitar Center in San Francisco.

I had brought in my travel guitar last Thursday to be fixed because I couldn't get any sound of the headphone jack. I figured it was nothing serious, and wasn't looking forward to the bill, but I wanted the guitar in working order for the trip. It's lap sized, for playing in a car or in spots without space or electricity. I was informed a week ago, on the 30th, that someone would call me in the next couple of days and that the repair wouldn't take more than a week. Well, yesterday was a week, and since I'm moving Saturday, I decided to just go get it back and say thanks for calling, eat a candy bar out of my ass, or something witty like that.

When I stepped up to the counter and showed the guy my receipt he was confused.

"You say it hasn't been fixed yet?"

Yes, I told him. He couldn't believe it had been a whole week and no one had worked on it. That never happens, he said. He said he'd go get it from out back.

He was gone at least 15 minutes, and when he got back he couldn't figure out how to void the transaction in the computer and so had to call his manager over. His manager was half his age, had straight black hair falling over his shoulder, a nose the size of an orange, a mustache of patchy black hair and a beard of pimples. After about 5 minutes of fiddling on the computer, he was unable to void the transaction as well.

I asked if I could just go, with my guitar, because there hadn't been a transaction. I hadn't given them any money and nothing had happened.

The manager said it would be a red tag on the computer so he had to have it voided properly. I assume he meant red flag. He said he was going to try it on the other computer and was gone, literally, 30 minutes. I know this because there was a big neon clock above the strings and picks. When he got back, he still didn't have it voided, so he said, "You can just go." Golly, thanks so much.

At the Guitar Center on Van Ness in San Francisco, they're extremely paranoid about thieving, so much that you have to check in and check out everything on your person. When I went to leave, the girl at the front counter stopped me to check my guitar, to make sure it was mine. She took it out of the case and while reading off the serial number asked: "Where's your receipt?"

So, while she went off to find the manager I zipped up my guitar case and left.

I spoke to my brother on the phone later that night, and he mentioned a similar problem he had with a guitar years ago. He suggested I remove the headphone jack and pieces under it, clean them, put them back on and make sure everything is tight. I did that and now the guitar works fine. Thank you Guitar Center.