The newest addition to the Heart, Body, & Soul family is … a 100-year-old baby grand piano! Not that we play. Or that we have delusions of growing up to be a new CoMo concert venue (okay, maybe a little, but …). You see, we happened to be walking down Broadway in the District one warm summer evening as a very talented musician sat outside playing at the old upright on the sidewalk outside Tellers.
We stopped to listen and Deb said, “That is SO cool. Wouldn’t it be fun to have a piano at the shop? Where people could just come in and play? I think we should put it out the Universe that we want a PIANO.” [Grandiose swishes of the arms toward the sky.]
Cat’s soul-filled response: “Yeah, fine. Whatever. You do that.”
48 hours later, we were hunting up used bookcases (we ARE a bookstore after all, even though we do now have a piano) and found ourselves at CoMo’s House of Treasures — a flea market aficionado’s dream. Rounding a corner, we found an old beat-up, upright piano.
Deb: “There’s our piano!”
Cat, (who had tortured a piano teacher for several years in her youth) ran a scale up the keys. “You might want to clarify to the Universe that it needs to be a playable piano.”
Deb dutifully clarified her request to the Universe –[slightly more muted swishes of the arms toward the ceiling] — and the bookcase quest continued.
Having scored several fun finds, we headed down the last aisle back to the checkout counter … and there, back to back, were two baby grand pianos.
Two.
Deb gasped in delight. Cat tried the keyboard of the one facing the aisle and everyone within earshot winced.
“Go try the other one,” Deb urged. So Cat climbed round the crammed collection of furniture, eventually emerging at the keyboard of a lovely old black baby grand. She played a few chords.
We looked at each other in stunned silence for a beat. Then Deb said, “Should I go ask how much it is?”
Cat shrugged, a little nervously, and off Deb went, returning soon with the manager in tow.
He gave us the price. It was a good price. A really good price. About half of what Cat had personally paid for a similar baby grand some twenty years ago, in her previous life — but still more than we could swing in our current one. We had bookcases to buy after all. And books. Cause we’re a BOOKstore.
“OR … you can make me an offer,” the manager said.
We looked at each other.
Deb threw out a number — half of what he’d quoted.
“Deal.”
Well, crap.
And that’s how we came to be a bookstore with a 100-year-old baby grand piano. And next time Deb says she wants to put something out to the Universe … Cat is going to pay a LOT more attention before agreeing. I mean … she really likes giraffes, you know? Gotta be careful.
In the meantime, if you happen to play the piano … we have one waiting for you. (And yes, it IS completely awesome! Even Cat agrees.)
