Yeah, talk about booties. I worked for a piano store that was owned by a wealthy businessman. He had a vacation home in a very exclusive private Palm Desert community, and was friends with the owner/developer. The developer purchased a Steinway B from the store, and I went out to rub out some packing marks. It was a three hour drive one way from where I live. Making the appointment was not like trying to find a mutual time and date. It was more like (think Gestapo), "You will be here next Tuesday morning." Me: "Well, I already have an appointment then. I can't make it." Silence. etc. We somehow came to an agreement on the particular day. So, as I arrived, I mentioned to the gate keeper something like, "Mr. So and So is quite a guy." (Sarcastically). His reply: "Well, you got THAT right!" Hmm... I finally arrived at the home, with legions of maids, workers, carpet layers, etc., all wearing these hospital booties. I was instructed to remove my shoes, lest I soil the extra wide, sculpted Italian carpet that was spread around everywhere. I complied, and proceeded to lay drop cloths around the piano as carefully as I could. For the next couple of hours, while rubbing out the piano, I noted the various workers being ordered about by the host. The air was thick with tension, as the poor workers labored and took orders. When I was finally finished, and packed up my stuff, one of the maids decided to "help" me pick up the drop cloths. She wasn't very careful, but wadded up the cloth. Just then, the owner noticed some black powder all over the carpet where the drop cloths had been. I thought I'd just been handed a death sentence. The owner went and got some carpet cleaner and proceeded to try to remove the powder. It didn't work. I don't know how I got out of there with my life. I even had to return a month later to fix the player. He had called a carpet company to clean the carpet, but wasn't entirely successful, and the carpet machine disturbed the carpet fibers so the pattern wasn't visible anymore. Somehow, again, I managed to escape without incident. Interestingly, this guy was as sweet as anything to his family. I suspect that somehow the piano store owner managed to cool him off about the incident, and I never heard from him again. Paul McCloud San Diego > [Original Message] > From: James Grebe <jamesgrebe at charter.net> > To: Pianotech <pianotech at ptg.org> > Date: 11/23/2009 5:04:09 AM > Subject: [pianotech] Gated Com > > I do not have a problem with guard gates. My big hangup is having to take > my shoes off in a home. It is dangerously slippery, makes using the pedals > painful. What I distaste even more is being handed a set of "footies" to > put on over my shoes. These things tell me about the snootiness of clients. > I can understand Asian families. I hate to be considered a lowly laborer > and treated as such. Just my humble opinion. > James > James Grebe Est. 1962 > Piano Tuner-Technician > Creator of Custom Caster Cups > Creator of fine Writing Instruments > www.grebepiano.com > 1526 Raspberry Lane > Arnold, MO 63010 > (314) 608-4137 > Become what you believe >
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