Tales from the record store . . .

A Sunday in 1993, Champaign, the band, reunites for an afternoon performance at Lincoln Square Mall. Pauli Carmen, Michael Day, Rocky Maffit and others use the ever vacant Record Service as a make shift, pre-performance retreat. Our clerk (friend to all, stranger to none) approaches Day and reminds him of a band equipment sale the band hosted out of Day’s house nearly a decade earlier. The clerk, still in high school at the time, attended with members of his punk band, “The Aborted Babies” (as profiled in Maximum Rock N Roll in 1985), to see about picking up some cheap mics. The band is rebuffed by the esoteric nature of the instruments offered and, more to the point, the lack of microphones available. They leave empty handed, however, pleased to know that they’ve met a member of the internationally known band. The clerk recounts the experience to Day as Carman approaches. Coming in at the end of the story, Carman remarks, “I remember that sale. Did you buy anything?” “No,” replied the clerk. “There was nothing there suitable for an Aborted Baby.” Both Carman and Day, stunned silent, stare in what seemingly appears to be abject horror . . . perhaps disgust. As they back away from the desk and start to head out to the staging area, the clerk says, “Hey, let me give you my number. If you ever decide to do it again, let me know . . . I still remember where you live, Mike.” They keep going and the clerk thinks he hears a nervous laugh from Day as he exits the store. “Have a good show, guys. I’ll be here when you get back.” They don’t return and someone else comes to collect the stuff left behind.