Low fidelity, high noise

Ever had one of those days when you feel like everything moves past you at lightening speed, that whenever you turn around there's a new task at hand, that for every phone-call you answer there are two more on hold, that for every form you archive there are ten more waiting to be reviewed? That you're working your butt off, sweating blood and tears, and that everyone just takes you for granted? That you're the only one who can answer the questions about how this and that product works, why there are items missing from the latest product delivery, why the server is down and how to use the credit card terminal? That the blood in your veins are 75% caffeine, that someone stole your lunch from the fridge (again) and that your boss just asked you to work overtime this weekend?

And when the day is over, and you leave your underpaid work (for which you are highly overqualified, of course) and return home to find that the only energy you have left barely lets you collapse on your coach in front of the TV/computer screen, only to doze of a few minutes later and wake up in the middle of the night, realizing you have to leave for work again in a couple of hours?

By Grapthar's Hammer, I'm glad I don't have a job like that!

Here, on the other hand, are some of the interesting characters you meet in my line of work (musical instrument sales):

• The Auditionist: Enters the store at opening hours, finds himself (or rarely: herself) a chair and a guitar, and starts playing. Sometimes, they'll sing, too. Loudly. Not that I have anything against Creedence Clearwater Revival, but once you've heard "Rolling On The River" performed on an out of tune guitar by someone whose voice have a strong crow-like quality, it loses some of its charm.
• The Worried Parent: While I can understand that buying a guitar/keyboard/kazoo for their child prodigy may be an arduous task, and that every musical instrument salesman (in their eyes) is as trustworthy as a used car salesman and only out to rob you of your hard-earned money (probably earned in a job as described in the opening paragraph of this blog entry), I do find it tiresome to be labeled as a jerk for not giving them a 30% discount on their high-quality 99$ beginner's instrument.
• The Hardcore Haggler: Look, I know there is some kind of unwritten rule that you're supposed to haggle in a musical instrument store - heck, I'll even play along if there's the possibility for a sale in the horizon - but asking for a 50% discount because you bought your first guitar in the store 20 years ago is a little far-fetched and shows a disturbing lack of understanding about our mark-ups and the inner workings of a store. You know, actually making money off the products you sell and stuff?
• The Manual-thrower: Manuals are scary things. Not only do they accurately describe the functionality and operation of that high-tech thingamajig you just unwrapped, it also contains wise words regarding the dos and don'ts of said thingamajig. So, while I am happy to explain to you that lowering your newly acquired gizmo into an acid bath may not be the best way of treating it, and yes - it will probably stop working if you do so, I do not have to listen to your complains about the product's failure to comply to your rigid quality expectations. It's a microphone. You plug it in. You sing. If your voice sounds horrible, it may have something to do with your voice, or the fact that you just put it in an acid bath.
  

Note: this is all written with tongue firmly in cheek. If you have ever bought an instrument from me and feel hurt by this, please let me know and I'll throw in a free kazoo the next time you buy some strings or a cable (it's hard enough to get rid of the blasted things as it is).