I just had my very own Spinal Tap moment! I love it!
I’m on chat with the sales droid at the music store that must not be named. Asked if they have 12" straight to right-angle cables. Answer: “I’ll put them in your cart.”
I went to radio shack some years ago and asked for some ethernet cables. The sale person asked, “How long do you want them?” I replied, “Well, I was kind of hoping to keep them.”
Many years ago, I played at a club, the Hollywood Athletic Club. It’s a pretty ritzy joint, and laid out in a rather non-obvious way, so much so that they actually had a guy whose job it was to come to the green room at show time and escort the band to the stage.
So there we were: show time, and the guy shows up and starts leading us to the stage. And it really is a circuitous route; up these stairs, down a hall, down those stairs, through the boiler room . . . at one point, you actually exit the building into an alley and re-enter through another door . . . and so on.
So of course, by the time we hit the boiler room, everyone in the band is doing that Spinal Tap bit, shouting “Hello Cleveland!” and “Rock and Roll!!”–we were actually a jazz band, but some things transcend genre–and so forth. And so at that point, the guy whose job it was to lead bands to the stage stopped short, slowly turned around with an expression of exasperated bewilderment on his face, and said:
I had a guy try to lure me away from my job with promises of how great things would be just as soon as his business got up and running – you know, after I put in the effort to maybe make it happen for him. To make 100% sure I understand the pitch I’m turning down, I slowly restate the proposed deal: there’s no revenue now; and so I’d leave a job I’m great at, to work on a gamble, for free?
He agrees.
I of course reply, “Well, I don’t know; w-what are the hours?”