I went out on a delivery today, something I normally don't do. But I recently had to replace a delivery team who had come to think they ran my company with a new one who understands who runs the show (though the old crew has come to understand this as well
It was a 5'7" W. Hoffman by Bechstein. The lady who bought it had saved for a long time for the day she could get her dream piano. She shopped long and hard, and fell in love with the Hoffman. She had to wait on delivery for 2 weeks because she had just had her floors refinished. So for two weeks she has waited, the anticipation building for the moment her piano would sit in her living room.
As they were bringing the piano in, she was a basketcase, worried they might scratch the floor, or drop the piano, she had never seen a grand on its side like that before, so there was the fascination of that mixed in as well. She was everywhere at once, checking the floor, leave the room because she couldn't take watching, then come back because she couldn't take *not* watching, in general just a bundle of nerves mixed with excitement. When they got the piano's last leg on it, my crew foreman...
) wiped the finish clean, placed the bench in front of the piano, turned to her and said, "Ma'am, would you honor us with a little tune on your new piano?" I looked at the customer, and her eyes were filled, her lips were quivering, and you could tell it was all she could do to hold herself together. You could tell that part of her wanted to bolt from the room before she fell apart, embarassed that she was reacting in such a way, but her eyes never left her piano.
She went to the piano, sat down, and played some chords up and down the keyboard, trying her best to get into an "I'm in control - I'm just testing the sound in the room" frame of mind. After she played the chords, she sat looking straight ahead for a moment, her eyes shining with tears she was holding in. She played a little piece of classical music, stopped, and after a moment she softly said, "Oh, my.....". As best as she could, she quickly excused herself and ran out of the room, giving some excuse for needing to go into the kitchen.
The crew gathered up their equipment and left, and I stayed behind til she came back in the room. When she came back she had mostly composed herself, and now was beaming like a light. I don't think you could have gotten the smile off her face with a crowbar. As I walked down the driveway, I heard her as she started to play the piano, and then it stopped - and I heard "Oh my....". And it wasn't because she found a scratch on her new floor, either.
Sometimes I love this business.