Requiem for Tower Records
by Amelia G : November 22nd, 2006
Many years ago, I lived near a Tower Records with an amazing selection. This was after I stopped getting my music for free from air promotions for being a radio DJ and before I started getting my music for free from publicists for being a journalist. It was also after I was broke and living in a punk rock group house and before I stopped giving a fuck about most of it.
I knew these two guys who went by the telling monikers of Psycho and Xylo. Psycho had a job as a clerk at Tower. One of his responsibilities was to check people’s bags while they were browsing. Now Psycho’s dad was some ridiculously high-ranking mucky-muck in the military, so Psycho could come off as sort of responsible. Xylo was less convincing, but he knew me. I had striped hair and liked to wear my underwear in public, but I came across as much more innocent and respectable. Probably because I was. But I was broke, coveted music, and was sweet on Xylo, so it didn’t take much to get me in on their heist.
The basic plan was actually kind of brilliant in its elegant simplicity. Psycho stockpiled a ton of CDs behind the counter where he worked. Xylo supplied me with a duffle bag, which I checked upon entering the store. I looked like someone who would shop at Tower, but I didn’t look like someone who would be part of a heist, because I normally wouldn’t have been. The idea was that I would check “my” bag, browse around the store while Psycho filled the duffle bag with CDs, and then pick up “my” duffle bag and leave. Now the plan got a little bit more complicated when everyone …
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