The Trouble With...(Pt. 6)

We had talked about it for a while. I suppose we had actually had as many as 10 separate discussions on the subject over the course of a six month time span. Now, as you grow older, you know that 6 months gets shorter and shorter with each passing year. But when you are still 11 years old, 6 months is a very long time. And 10 conversations during that time seems like your parents must surely have forgotten that they ever took place! Rest assured, your parents think 'you just won't let it drop,' or 'that kid has a one-track mind!' Well, we talked about it.

Spud wanted to get his ear pierced. His dad said he should wait till he was older. I said he should go someplace and have it done by a professional. [For the record, let me step up on this soapbox for a minute. _step_stEP_STEP_ I did not mean the quickie mall stores, either. I know a lot of people are ok with it, but it is horribly unsanitary and not a piercing. It's a puncture; done by a kid who was probably hired for the holiday or summer season; who was given a 10 minute instruction on "how to"; and they usually don't clean that tool after each use. Go somewhere that is APP (Association of Professional Piercers) certified! Sorry. I'm getting off my soapbox now. STEP_STep_step.] Seriously, how did Gen-X ever survive? As I was saying, it really was alright with me, just as long as he didn't let his friends do it. And the discussion continued with no resolution.

I was the manager of a music store in our hometown. If you have ever seen Empire Records, you know what our store was like. Good times, yeah. My assistant manager and I were 'working' very hard one day at the music store. I believe we were playing 'what's the craziest question a customer asked you today?' I told him that I was alphabetizing the CDs over in the Jazz section. That section is toward the back of the store. A customer came in and as I approached, he yelled, "Do you sell CDs here?" I honestly thought he was messing with me. I stopped short. We are a music store. There are THREE rows of browsers holding thousands of CDs that he could clearly see. His eyes were focused on me and waiting for an answer.

"Do you sell CDs?" So I asked him, "Is this a joke?" That upset him. I could see his whole demeanor change in an instant. Immediately I replied, "What type of CD are you looking for? Maybe I can help you with that."

"I just want to look." He said. "I was trying to find a store that actually sold music." He could see me starting to smile, and he started to get flustered again. By this time, I had already leaned onto one of the browsers at the front of the store as I was talking to him. I smiled at him, and said, "Please forgive me for seeming so curt. I think you will see why I thought you were kidding me, and I hope you see the humor in this, too." I stood up straight, reached my hand out and placed it on the CDs next to me. In that moment, he finally took his eyes off of me, and he saw the CDs for the first time. We had a great laugh. I was relaying this story to my co-worker and having another laugh about it.

Just then, the phone rang. Of course, as the manager, I made him answer it. Of course, it was for me. Of course, it was a personal call! Something I never want to have in retail.

"Hi, mom," my son said.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Well, you know I've been asking about getting my ear pierced, right?" "Yea," I replied.

"So I was wondering if you and dad had decided if it was okay or not." "Honey, I told you...I don't mind, but I want you to have a professional do it; not your friends. Dad is the one you have to convince. Call and ask him. Is this important right now?"

What followed seemed like 5 minutes of dead air time on the phone, but in reality was more like 5-10 seconds. And then, "Well, I was walking home from school today...and as I crossed over the bridge, I tripped...and I fell...and when I did, my ear accidentally fell onto a nail...and now I have a hole in my ear...so Brandon gave me one of his earrings to put in it."

Another moment of silence. Feel free to go ahead and burst into laughter at this point because it took everything in me not to do just that when he finished his brief synopsis of this traumatic event in his life.

"Justin. How stupid do you think I am?”

"What do you mean?"

"How...stupid...do you think I am?!" He paused to actually ponder this seemingly trick question. Then he responded, ever so sheepishly, "Brandon pierced my ear."

"Please tell your dad that tonight and not the story you just gave me, okay?" "Okay." Seriously. Parents aren’t stupid.