All week store metal-heads cranked the stereo: Metallica, Nirvana, Motorhead, Nitzer Ebb, Thrill Kill Cult, Soundgarden. After each CD we'd increase the volume a taste. Deaf cripples would dance, the store pounded. Nobody minded.
Not true. The Boss finally endured enough. His patience burst with his Bambi eardrums. Midsong he killed the Melvins, put in Iris DiMent country schtick. Now everyone's ears hurt. Then he warned -- No more metal overload during daylight hours. Metal, Heavy Metal, Industrial, Bass, all banned until after sunset when Sound Warehouse morphed into Club Warehouse.
The Boss also had final decree as to what constituted noise. An ever growing roster, apparently. Nitzer Ebb, Lords Of Acid, Ministry, Pixies, Nine Inch Nails, Thrill Kill Cult, quickly plunked into the "sounds of darkness" folder, along with Metallica, Cult, Mötley Crüe, Motorhead, and anything that blared from Seattle. Fully half the playstack.
While most employees accepted the restrictions, others chafed. Rebellious, stubborn, or stupid. This brought screaming. "Rob!" "Greg!" "Turn that off!" "Worthy!" "Trina!" Todd escaped unscathed because he was in the backroom all day.
One might argue, but his eyes rolled into his skull. Resistance was futile.
Crow was a popular favorite, film and soundtrack. Whenever a coworker viewed the flick for the first time, the soundtrack was inserted, volume cranked to 11. Predictable as Summer heat.
Friday afternoon, late. 4:00 PM. Crow fired up. Loud. Damn loud.
I shrugged from Classical. I hadn't put that album on. I was too busy making pulls. I liked rotating the stock, not maintaining a museum. Crow wouldn't have been my first choice, I was completely fixated by the Manchester scene music.
"What?" Rob gestured from where he stood outside cassettes, near the windows. "I didn't play that crap." Then he went back to hustling two college girls.
Feeling ignored and pissed off, The Boss jumped out of the Manager's Booth, ejected Crow from the CD player, then stomped up and down on it, completely destroying it.
"Hey, who took off that Crow soundtrack I was playing?"
Gilda, normally a quiet coworker, though she possessed a legendary temper. She had clocked in minutes earlier.
The Boss opened his mouth, visibly shook, walked away.
There were silver shards across the floor.
Too bad, Crow was a good soundtrack.