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He had a pained expression on his face. I guess it’s tough telling anyone their loved one might not make it. He took me through the symptoms: warped neck, loose tuners, broken nut, dead strings, battered body, and that Band-Aid. Do you want to know what it was covering up? Nothing. As in empty space. As in a hole! He stared down at the instrument and shook his head. I had to agree with him. It didn’t look good.
“But it’s a Fender,” I said.
He shrugged and gave me directions to a technician, conveniently located on the other side of the city. “Steve can fix it for you. It’ll cost you about 40 bucks,” he said. He told me that I’d still be stuck with a cheap laminated guitar, but fixing it would be a lot cheaper than throwing in the towel and buying a new one. “And if you’re just learning…” he reasoned, tapping his chin stud thoughtfully.
I asked him if he could at least re-string it for me so I could fool around with it. He said that he could not, in good conscience, replace even one string. “It’ll just make it worse,” he said. And I, of course, believed him.
Stay tuned for part 8!