It’s stealing to take advantage of someone who doesn’t know how to haggle. It’s a sin.

All the years I lived in Richmond, one constant was Plan 9, in Carytown. Their literature shelf and bulletin board were a hub for the anti-establishment college crowd and art school dropout scene. They carried some issues of Babelogue, my first stab at underground publishing. Ann Koi found an issue and sent me a copy of her zine, Lumpy Head. We developed an odd friendship. Plan 9 sold Maximumrocknroll. One time, there was a note on the bulletin board inviting people to CHAOS meetings in a classroom at Virginia Commonwealth University–that’s where I met Troy Eeyore. I got hooked up with the James River Greens. They were more of a social club than part of any serious political movement.

There was one time in Nashville–my parked car got hit by a pickup truck that slipped out of gear. I got an obscene amount of money. It wasn’t worth fixing the old Bonneville, and I wanted a nice ride cymbal. I found a music shop and fell in love with a 22″ Zildjian K-Series ride. I talked the guy down to $250. My friend and I had lunch across the street. He knew I was going to get it, and I did. When I went to the counter, the guy made a mistake and rang it up for $150. I knew what was going on, but I didn’t say anything.

There was a used record store in the Southside. I only had enough gas to make it to the store, but I had a pile of records to sell. I figured I’d be able to put some gas in the tank and come home with an amount of money. The guy offered me $9. I protested, but he remained firm.

I paid $550 for a used American Stratocaster that had a scratch over the serial number–that would have been a perfect bargaining chip. But no, I walked to the register with my checkbook. One guy in Richmond would cheat me, because he knew I was always desperate for cash.

There was one cool record shop in Lynchburg, the Record Exchange. They were part of a chain, with locations as far away as North Carolina. I frequented the Record Exchange when I was in high school. That’s where my love affair with Maximumrocknroll–and punk culture–began.

About a decade ago, everything went to hell. Plan 9 bought the Record Exchange–the entire chain. With the name change, the culture went downhill.

I didn’t really need the money, I was just downsizing my collection. It was a big box with a lot of LP records–Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, John Lennon. All kinds of records they would put a $3 price tag on. I had to wait a few days for them to go through all of them. They offered me $12. Like a spineless idiot, I said okay. Thez next time I went in there, I saw the Ice-T double LP that they bought from me, with a $9 price tag.

When I did need the money, I brought my complete Frank Zappa 12-CD live box set, You Can’t Do that on Stage Anymore, to Plan 9. They offered me $38 for the whole thing. This time, I had the gumption to say, “No way.”

It probably has something to do with taxes: the entire chain formerly known as the Record Exchange went out of business less than one year after Plan 9 bought them.

There is only one independent record store left in Lynchburg, Speaker Tree. They are located in a terrible spot downtown. Hell, I don’t even know if they’re still in business. (I just checked, and they closed in 2020. Aren’t search engines just the neatest thing?)