Post by Jolly on Jul 23, 2017 18:12:14 GMT
Christmas is a good time in the piano business. That, and the beginning of school. Parents want their kids to have piano lessons and they want to buy a piano for the budding musician to practice on. Most times, it's a broken down old upright a cross country truck driver couldn't pound a tune out of. If the parents have a few nickles or good credit, sometimes they will buy something better or even a new piano.
The day was like many others in the beginning of winter in Atlanta...Overcast, grey, cold and raining. Even though it was the busy season, the piano shop was deserted, except for the owner and one piano tech trying to fight an old Baldwin Acrosonic into tune in the back of the shop. The door opened with a little gust of cold wind and the smell of winter rain, allowing a family to enter and drip water on the carpeted floor. Three people of Asian descent. Dad, mom and a little 7 year old girl.
The owner asked the father if they wanted to look at new or used pianos, knowing that Asians usually only buy new, not used, but you have to ask, nonetheless. The father said in heavily accented English they would like to look at new pianos.
"Ah, new. Yes, we have a nice selection. What is your budget?"
The budget named would certainly buy a new less expensive vertical and the owner started to show the ones he had in stock he thought would be a good fit. The father and mother did not play, but the little girl could play some simple things...A couple of folk songs, a carol or two, a snippet of this and a snippet of that. And a bit of fur elise. Dear Lord, why did every kid in the world know just enough of that piece to butcher it?
When you work the business long enough, you learn to size up customers and the dealer was no neophyte. It was pretty evident after a few pianos, the father was trying to steer the little girl as much as possible towards the cheaper pianos. Cheap pianos are OK, they have their place, but they aren't always satisfying for a player, even a seven year old with a smattering of music and a bit more than a smattering of talent.
She'd been a good girl, though. She hadn't even tried to play the expensive Bechsteins or the Charles Walter grand. She hadn't even looked at the bigger imported Korean grands. But she sat down three times at a little Pearl River, a little Chinese grand that might could have qualified as an overgrown coffee table. Surprisingly, the owner had to admit for the smallest grand piano in the shop, it sounded more expensive than it was, especially if you didn't play a lot in the bottom bass notes.
The father finally decided on a piano, even while the little girl was drawn back to the littlest grand. Even a blind man could tell she didn't want the piano her dad was about to buy. And as she played fur elise for probably the tenth time on the tiny black grand, the owner had a flash of inspiration.
"Sir, if the price was right, would you be interested in the little black grand your daughter is playing on? It's a closeout and I can do much better than the price marked."
Well, after a bit of haggling, in which the owner had to lower his asking price on the grand down to the price of the vertical piano the father had almost bought and then throw in two free tunings, the father told his daughter he'd bought her the little black grand for Christmas. She squealed, she jumped and bounced and even shed a tear or two. Delivery was arranged and the family left happy. Dad was proud of his bargaining skills, mom was happy they had a piano for their daughter and the little girl was beyond happy with her new grand piano.
And as the owner sat down at the Bechstein concert grand and absently picked out Silver Bells, he wondered how in the Hell he was going to explain to his office manager why he had sold a grand piano for $1500 under cost...
The day was like many others in the beginning of winter in Atlanta...Overcast, grey, cold and raining. Even though it was the busy season, the piano shop was deserted, except for the owner and one piano tech trying to fight an old Baldwin Acrosonic into tune in the back of the shop. The door opened with a little gust of cold wind and the smell of winter rain, allowing a family to enter and drip water on the carpeted floor. Three people of Asian descent. Dad, mom and a little 7 year old girl.
The owner asked the father if they wanted to look at new or used pianos, knowing that Asians usually only buy new, not used, but you have to ask, nonetheless. The father said in heavily accented English they would like to look at new pianos.
"Ah, new. Yes, we have a nice selection. What is your budget?"
The budget named would certainly buy a new less expensive vertical and the owner started to show the ones he had in stock he thought would be a good fit. The father and mother did not play, but the little girl could play some simple things...A couple of folk songs, a carol or two, a snippet of this and a snippet of that. And a bit of fur elise. Dear Lord, why did every kid in the world know just enough of that piece to butcher it?
When you work the business long enough, you learn to size up customers and the dealer was no neophyte. It was pretty evident after a few pianos, the father was trying to steer the little girl as much as possible towards the cheaper pianos. Cheap pianos are OK, they have their place, but they aren't always satisfying for a player, even a seven year old with a smattering of music and a bit more than a smattering of talent.
She'd been a good girl, though. She hadn't even tried to play the expensive Bechsteins or the Charles Walter grand. She hadn't even looked at the bigger imported Korean grands. But she sat down three times at a little Pearl River, a little Chinese grand that might could have qualified as an overgrown coffee table. Surprisingly, the owner had to admit for the smallest grand piano in the shop, it sounded more expensive than it was, especially if you didn't play a lot in the bottom bass notes.
The father finally decided on a piano, even while the little girl was drawn back to the littlest grand. Even a blind man could tell she didn't want the piano her dad was about to buy. And as she played fur elise for probably the tenth time on the tiny black grand, the owner had a flash of inspiration.
"Sir, if the price was right, would you be interested in the little black grand your daughter is playing on? It's a closeout and I can do much better than the price marked."
Well, after a bit of haggling, in which the owner had to lower his asking price on the grand down to the price of the vertical piano the father had almost bought and then throw in two free tunings, the father told his daughter he'd bought her the little black grand for Christmas. She squealed, she jumped and bounced and even shed a tear or two. Delivery was arranged and the family left happy. Dad was proud of his bargaining skills, mom was happy they had a piano for their daughter and the little girl was beyond happy with her new grand piano.
And as the owner sat down at the Bechstein concert grand and absently picked out Silver Bells, he wondered how in the Hell he was going to explain to his office manager why he had sold a grand piano for $1500 under cost...
