Sitting OnThe Dock Of eBaySeptember 1, 2007 at 9:34 AM | Posted in Journal | 2 Comments
It actually all started back in April or May of 2006. A customer at the restaurant gave my friend Karl a guitar as a tip–to spite me, because I’m an incredible asshole.
My friend Karl kept the guitar for over a year. Neither one of us knows much about them, but he knows more than I do; he can play one. But I figured that the guitar was probably a cheap starter one, worth a hundred dollars at the most. The guy who gave it to him, in addition to being a notoriously cheap tipper, is also in a wheelchair, and in his fairly large house has several hundred guitars. As a side business, he fixes, repairs, and builds guitars.
And so: of late, Karl needed money, and he was looking to sell it. He figured he could get a hundred or one hundred and fifty bucks for it. He brings it up to the restaurant, and a couple of the guys there looked at, looked it up, and told Karl that the guitar could easily be worth 1500 dollars.
Dollar signs flashed in his eyes.
Karl has some problems.
(What do you mean, "problems"?)
Well, he’s okay at home or at the restaurant, but if he has to go anywhere else, he gets weird.
(Talk about "weird.")
"Talk about weird…" Okay. He has some anxiety issues. He doesn’t like to drive on the highway, or over bridges. He doesn’t like to go into big places, like Walmart, or the Grocery store, or. . .outside.
So he enlists me to act as his agent, his liaison. We agreed I should take it to the local guitar store and sell, sell, sell! Maybe get 900 or 1000 bucks. Maybe more. Maybe 1500. Maybe 20,000. Maybe a million! Maybe a million jillion billion bajillion dollars! Ya know, maybe.
Guy at the guitar shop was slightly less enthused. He said he’d have to work with it, play with it a little more, but probably more in the neighborhood of 4 or 5 hundred. He recommended Ebay. So I says to him, I says, "I may come back, then." Less commanding and authoritative than Arnold, but I got my point across.
And so, I tackle the enormous tentacled beast that is Ebay. I post the thing, and after the first day, 58 people have looked at it. Cool. But no bids.
The next day, 325 people have looked at it. But still no bids. And some have asked questions. But most of the comments are surly accusations.
"FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAKE FAAKE!"
Really? Tell me what you really think, ass-munch.
That’s what most of them were, but some clown in Maylasia wanted to buy it, asked questions about it. Questions that, of course, I couldn’t answer.
"Is the fret board ebony? Are frets 21-24 scalloped? How many licks does it take–"
But the guys were all on my ass about it being fake. You see, it *looks* like a Steve Vai 7Jem series Ibanez. New ones list for about 2200 dollars. But–apparently alot of people on the internet have too much time on their hands. These are probably the same people who, without the internet, would wash their car several times a week.
One or more of them gave me info and vaguish threats about calling the FBI. It’s a cheap knock off made in China or Korea, it’s counterfeit. Not only illegal to sell but illegal to even own.
So I had to back and fill, ask some questions, answer some, and then modify the eBay listing to let them know that I was going to take it off, and that I didn’t know it was counterfeit.
And one last ass-clown (these guys get real brave on the internet. Oooh! Gonna kick my ass, are ya?) said how could I *not* know it was fake?
Well, I don’t live and die by guitars, dickhead. I appreciate music, but I don’t play. Everybody has their thing that they’re an expert in. Guitars is yours. Come outside once in a while, see how people in the world live, and you’ll see that what is so important to you most people could give a rat’s ass about.
I’m not saying it’s not important.
Okay, I am. But even things that *I* think are important, I know they are only important to me, not everyone else. I have a sense of what *is*, in the universe. Whether or not this guitar is counterfeit matters to only a few people. And I’m not one of them.
It only matters to me because now I am caught up in this web of international guitar counterfeiting, and the several people on eBay that have no life have said they have contacted the eBay police and the FBI. I’m sure I’m going to get a knock on my door, I’ll get handcuffed, blindfolded, taken away to some secret location–like the bathroom at Taco Bell–beaten and interrogated about my knowledge of "Le Jaguar," the ringleader of the international guitar, triangle and recorder counterfeiting ring that has infiltrated our country with bogus goods and possibly terrorism, in the form of shoddy Korean workmanship. I mean, do you really want a Hundai? Seriously?
But it makes me wonder if that fucker in the wheelchair knew it was a fake. . .? Supposedly, he’s an expert on guitars. Maybe that’s why he pawned it off on my friend, the Dude. If it’s illegal to sell or even own–It’s going to go right back to him as the original owner. Fucking gimp. And he’s still a cheap tipper.