"I am going to sell you an accordion," said Anne Romagnoli.
"Not right -- " began the teenage boy.
"No, listen, I've got to sell you an accordion. Why can't I sell you an accordion? You need an accordion. Look at you."
"I know, but my accordion, it was my uncle's accordion, and, uh," he said, dissolving into mumbles.
"You're playing a child's accordion. You need an adult's accordion. How old are you?"
"I'm 15."
"You're 15, and you're playing a child's accordion. What can I do to sell you an accordion?"
I'm sold. I've visiting Mrs. Romagnoli's store this weekend, just to check it out. Here's her full story, courtesy of the Chicago Tribune.
Everybody needs an accordion. I had one on loan for awhile, but its owner took it back home. I should get it back over here, because everyone must have an accordion, especially if one has a recording studio in one's home. "We Can Work It Out"--I rest my case.
ReplyDeleteI love the accordion! Anyone who doesn't has no soul.
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