There's a reason I nicknamed myself KenFused.

Well, actually the name was thought up and given to me by my old friend Jake Schaefer, but I have embraced it because it is often true. It's a way of laughing at those moments when my propensity to act or talk before thinking overcomes my better judgement. Or my striking occasional ability to become befuddled by the simplest of things. (Recent example - got in the minivan and discovered that I couldn't shift from Park into Drive. Wha?? Started to worry about the repair cost. 10 minutes of trying to figure out what the issue was and if I could get around it to drive home. Friend who stopped to help says, "Is your foot on the brake?" It wasn't. Foot on brake, shifts as expected. Facepalm.)

So in my last post I savaged the staff at the local outpost of the national music retailer for its incompetence, indifference, and general dirtbaggery. It was all about my frustrating experience buying a TASCAM DP-008 recorder. They certainly deserved it, however.

Here's the kicker, though - I made the wrong choice of recorder anyway!! Don't that beat all? I wanted a machine that would record 4 simultaneous tracks of audio, because at Maybe Tuesday's upcoming CD Release Party I need to record our performance. I want to capture a stereo feed direct from the house sound system - that's two tracks - while capturing stereo ambience and audience noise with a pair of microphones, and that's another two tracks. The TASCAM is an 8-track recorder, but will only record 2 tracks at a time. I got KenFused. Worse, I didn't discover this until after the store's 100% refund period had ended, AND I had thrown away the packaging. BRAVO!!

BOSS makes a device that will do exactly what I want, so I will be putting the TASCAM up on eBay and hoping for a decent sale, putting the proceeds into buying the BOSS product.

KenFused. Yep.

Incompetent Staff, Jedi Mind Tricks, Music Store Fail.

I bought a TASCAM DP-008 recorder for use with the band. Good Ol' [National Retail Music-Store Chain]. . . . I special-ordered it last week, guy said it'd be here end of this week, i.e. today. Said he'd call. Knew he wouldn't. Went in there earlier today to see if it was there. Handed a different guy my receipt (I had paid in full). He went and checked on it.  

"Not here yet," he said, dismissively, when he returned.  

"Well, can you tell me when it will be here?"

"Um, the power supply is here, but the recorder isn't."

"Thanks, but that's not much help. I would like to know when it will be here - I paid in full in advance."

Fella looked at the other fella behind the counter. "Do you know how to do that?"

"No," he said.

I reached for my receipt, and once he'd handed it to me I started to walk away.

"Wait - we can look it up for you. It's no trouble." 

Fella took my receipt again and went back to talk to the stockroom guy.

I looked down at the glass display case. Three TASCAM DP-008's were stacked on one shelf, a fourth on another.

Fella came back. "Sorry, the stockroom guy is out to lunch . . . I can't get an answer for you right this minute," he said, unconvincingly. 

"There seem to be," I said, pointing at the display case, "four of them right there. Can I have one of those?"

Long pause while he stared at the four boxes. "I dunno. Lemme check." Went away again. 

Different guy came back. "We'll have to cancel your special order, is that OK?" 

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Blank face. I could almost hear the "dink . . . dink" of cartoon eye-blinks.  

The salesman who had taken my special order walked over. "It's OK, [name redacted], I'll take care of him."

He started to punch keys on the computer (hadn't even said hello to me). He stopped. He frowned. "Why is the price $249? It's $299."

"I told you I had seen it online for $249 and you matched that price. I appreciate that, by the way."

His eyes narrowed with apparent suspicion. "Where did that price come from?" 

"I have no idea where you confirmed it. I saw it in 3 or 4 places at that price. You Googled it on your computer there. . . ."

He punched some keys. He still hadn't looked me in the eye.

"Oh, yeah, I see that now. OK, would you like to get the Extended Warranty? It covers you even if _you_ damage the unit."

"No, thanks, I didn't want it when you suggested it last week and I still don't think I need it."

"Are you sure? It covers you even if _you_ damage the unit," he repeated, as if he was Obi-Wan Kenobi lying to some Imperial stormtroopers. I half-expected him to wave his hand.

"I'm pretty careful with my stuff, dude. I'm good."

A manager came over, who was apparently needed to authorize the cancellation of the special order and approve the selling price for the second time. He looked up at me. "Can we set you up with the Extended Warranty today?" 

My teeth began to grind. "No, thanks."

"You know it makes sure you get a brand-new unit even if you are responsible for damaging this one, right?"

"I'm aware, thanks. No need."

"Anything else you need today? Cables, microphones, anything?"

"No, thanks, I'm all set."

"Just picking this up today, then?"

With great effort I tried to muster a friendly smile. I probably wasn't very convincing. "Yes. Thanks very much for all your help."

The now sour-faced salesman handed me the boxes and my receipt, and I headed for the door. 

Another guy wearing a nametag that read, "[name redacted] Store Manager" caught up with me on the way out.

"Hiya, I'm [name redacted], I'm the manager. I couldn't help but notice you seemed a little annoyed with my guys. Is there anything I need to know about?" He scored points for couching the question as if I might have a good reason to be annoyed. Was this a common occurrence, I wondered?

"Maybe." I explained all that had just transpired. [Name redacted] looked at me as if to say, "And?"

"Point is, your store had my money, AND you had the product I wanted. I got no phone call, and everyone seemed really put out that I wanted to take one of the units from stock. It took five guys to get it done. I had a funky experience with a very un-personable and clearly indifferent sales guy when I came in here last week to order this, and today's experience included even more indifference, plus a big fat scoop of incompetence. I'll level with you; I completely understand that Internet retailers have made it so you can't make any money on the actual item anymore. I'd be willing to bet the store cleared much less than $20 on this," I said, holding up my new TASCAM, "which means that all the effort expended today by three sales clerks, the warehouse guy, and an assistant manager ate up all the profits. Had it been handled in five minutes by one guy – and there's no reason why it couldn't have been – there would have been no need to pressure me none too subtly three different times to buy the box of air and pure profit known as the Extended Warranty. . . ."

He cut in. "You know, that protects you even if _you_ damage the item." 

What, no hand wave?