A few Saturdays ago, I noticed a new high-end audio store on my way home from West Portland. I’m not in the market for anything, but being an audio junkie, I’m always interested in what’s being peddled these days.
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A word about this niche industry: Most of the old commercial stereo dealers are gone. Much of it is has been folded into the audio/video big box stores like Costco and Best Buy. The other reality, is that Amazon has done to the commercial home entertainment industry what they’ve done to bookstores and just about everything else. So of the few dedicated audio stores still in business, many have moved upscale. WAAAAAY upscale. They’ve become “boutiques.” And boy-howdy, do they push that elitism.
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I noticed that audio store was open today, so I maneuvered the Javamobile into the parking lot for a look-see. Which is kinda’ like docking the Queen Mary into a slip meant for a dinghy, but I managed.
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[SIDEBAR] Even before I opened the door, this place looked chic. Smoked glass, polished zebrawood everywhere, etc. And admittedly, I probably stuck out like a hobo at the Ritz-Carlton. Chocolate and espresso-stained Levis, denim shirt with a big brown chai tea stain, Birkenstocks... you get the picture. 🧟♂️
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So I opened the door and walked in, almost as if I didn’t give a shit what people think of my working man’s attire—because I don’t. There are two salesmen, each “working” two well-to-do looking couples. And by working them, I mean WORKING them. The same appeal-to-the-ego techniques that I learned in the car sales business back in the early ‘70s: Make them think whatever they have now is substandard, and that the ONLY way they can impress the neighbors in the castle next door, is to buy X... which they just happen to have on sale today (though in reality has a 200% markup).
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Salesman #3 emerges from a back room and gives me a once-over. I regret that I didn’t stop him long enough to whip out my iPhone and make a video of his reaction when he saw me, but oh well. He started at my Birkenstocks, worked his way up until he reached my eyes, and said “May I help you find something sir?” Pained look on his face, like he just came in from his mother’s funeral. If you’re picturing the “Broker” from Guardians of the Galaxy, you’re not far off.
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I said “No thanks, I just want to browse. I’ve driven past here before, but never when you’re open. So I thought I stop in to see what’s new in audio.”
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“Well, let me know if you have any questions,” and he went back to whatever it was he was doing, glancing over his shoulder for one last look at the abomination sullying his salon. I checked out their wares. Some pretty good stuff, some great stuff, and a LOT of grossly overpriced stuff. Again, intended for the deep-pocketed, insecure type. (P.T. Barnum was right, you know).
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I picked up an MSFL version of Carol King’s “Tapestry” album, and took it up to the spotless checkout counter. Out comes Mr. Broker again. “Ah, Tapestry! A great album. So what kind of turntable do you own?”
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“I have several actually,” and rattled them off to him.
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“Have you considered upgrading to the new Super-Zowie-Ultra-Fantabulous-Polyorgasmic moving coil cartridge? It’s like nothing you’ve ever heard. Velvety smooth.” (Ironic: I remember the sales manager at the Ford dealer telling me that we should tell customers that the new Country Squire station wagon rides “velvety smooth.”)
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“No thanks. I have all the cartridges I need.”
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“Moving coil cartridges?”
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“Two. I have two moving coil cartridges. One of which I’ve had since before you were born, plus five moving magnet cartridges. I’m good.”
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He ran my credit card for the Carol King record, never once bothering to pretend he was anything other than disgusted by my presence, and I left.
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I’ve been in business for just over 25 years. Granted, coffee ain’t an $11,000.00 amplifier, but a sale is a sale. You’re selling yourself, as much as your product. I’ll be amazed if that place lasts a year.
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