Patience is a virtue, as well as a virtual necessity when dealing with most clients in need of audio equipment. It would be nice – in a perfect world – if everyone who called for audio gear knew exactly what they were doing and what they were requesting, but alas, it is not the case.
Fortunately, I have put aside my ego and have overcome my hostilities at people's ignorance with the realization that I need to forgive my client's lack of awareness, for they know not what they do. Even though the client is always presumed right, it certainly taxes one's fortitude when a customer calls to complain that the gear they rented did not work. This is the same client that is so adamant about not having a technician, because they either know how to set up and use the gear, or they are in possession of a great soundman who knows the drill.
Red Flags
For me, red flags usually go up when the client tells me that the band or DJ that they have hired for the night will know how to set up and use the gear. Hah! Even if the talent were to be technically well-informed, there is a good chance that the following day I would be receiving a phone call from the client demanding that their payment be returned in full and complaining about how "my" defective equipment ruined their event.
Like most companies, we thoroughly check our equipment when it goes out on a rental, and we repeat the process when it comes back as well. Therefore, my first inclination upon hearing that my equipment is faulty is to assume user error, and 98 percent of the time, my postulation is correct.
It's unfortunate, but regardless of the client's egregious use of the equipment, there is no arguing that the gear did not function properly and, despite the evidence it was the operator and not the gear that failed, the client inevitably demands their money back. While I may have many faults, "Greedy" and "Vindictive" are not the vices with which I usually need to wrestle into submission and, in most regards, I am rather dispassionate when dealing with the business of equipment rental. My ego is not that invested in necessarily being right or wrong, but if I sense that the client is trying to "play" me, my ego invests heavily…to a fault.
Benefit of the Doubt
For the most part, I usually try to avoid butting heads and creating ill will with a client over a partial or full refund for gear that allegedly malfunctioned. I try to be professional and give them the benefit of the doubt, and since many of these clients are first-time renters who may or may not return for a second time, I try to dispatch the issue quickly and move on. I don't care to know too much of the who, how and why, nor do I crave the satisfaction of always being right, but, as I said, I do have my issues, which will surface from time to time, and if I sense that something is not quite right regarding the client's telling of the story, I can be quite unrelenting until I manage to bring the truth to light.
I am not in the business of taking money for shoddy gear, and I also have no difficulty owning up to a problem if the fault is on my side of the court. There are times I acquiesce for the sake of good client relations, but I am not interested in paying for other people's mistakes or taking the fall so that other people can save face.
Interestingly enough, it happens that I had one of those moments where my badger-like ego kicked in and went in search of confirmation for my perceived absolute correctness. In my quest to satiate my need for Truth, Justice and the American Way, I unwittingly opened a back-story that made me feel as if I were the eponymous detective in a good Sherlock Holmes novel.
There is a well-known venue in Manhattan with whom I do a good amount of work, and one day the production manager for the venue called to rent one of our PM5D consoles as he had done quite a few times in the past. It was a clean and easy rental to a client I knew and trusted to have a competent engineer working with familiar equipment. As soon as I confirmed the rental and committed it to paper, it was out mind, out of sight, done and gone; but, regrettably, it was not to be.
A Console Possessed?
Around 9:30 p.m. that evening, I received a text from our on-site backline tech telling me that I might need to check out the console, because apparently it was behaving in a bizarre manner and mashing scenes together as well as randomly muting outputs. Finally, in an act of pure defiance, the number 66666 scrolled across the console screen, prompting our tech to contact me.
As it was rather late and I was nowhere near the venue, I responded in text form that it sounded as though the console needed an exorcist. Realizing that they were in need of real answers and not my wise-ass comments, I wrote another text. "Sounds like a power problem." At that point our man on the job wrote back and said they were making it work; so I had a beer and went to bed.
The following day, as soon as the console was returned to the shop, we fired it up and played with it for about two hours. It was fine, and, as expected, it worked perfectly with no discernable issues. I then called the production manager at the venue and told him how the console performed and suggested that the earlier problem was power related.
"I have no power issues at the venue," was his response, and he listed the multitude of problem free consoles and devices that are usually in use at any given time. He also mentioned that there were four engineers, as well as our backline tech, who were witness to the possessed actions of my PM5D, and not one of them had ever seen a console perform in such a manner.
"Reply All"
The show was over and apparently they weathered the storm. So despite my conviction that there was a power issue, I was ready to forget the whole thing and resume my daily routine when "The Client" sent an e-mail to all parties involved stating how my console had been the cause of great drama and consternation during her event, at which point she alluded to some sort of reparation for her pain and suffering. In retrospect, I probably should have just given the money back and let it go, but no, my ego had to get involved, and I responded to "all" that it might be a power problem.
As it turns out I, of course, do business with everyone included in the e-mail. The two bands for the evening are top-selling acts with whom I do business, and the tour manager for one of the bands is a client in his own right, who I have known and worked with for years, while the engineer is also a business associate with whom I cross rent gear on a daily basis. Figuring that the engineer would have the most information, I called him and he told me that the console was only one of the problems that night and, besides losing half of the PA for a bit, he was tripping breakers as well. Aha, must be a power problem! Feeling vindicated, I immediately e-mailed my conversation with the engineer to all parties involved, thinking that I was offering a solution to the chaos that ensued the night before. How wrong I was.
The production manager for the venue e-mailed back, saying that if I felt like that, then he would never rent my consoles again. The tour manager then e-mailed that he, too, would never again rent my consoles, and it was then that my tech explained that the tour manager worked for the venue when he wasn't tour managing.
Right…and Wrong
Interestingly enough, from what I gleaned through my tech, the tour manager was feeling a bit slighted at the gig because he didn't sense he was being given the due respect he deserved as an employee of the venue, as well as tour manager for a major artist. I asked the engineer why he didn't just call his shop and get another PM5D sent over to the venue, and he told me that he had one sitting on the dock waiting to go, but no one was willing to pull the trigger and have it sent.
I inquired as to why my tech wasn't informed about the console's devilish behavior during sound check (or at least before 9:30 p.m.) and was told that they were making it work. The client, who had rented from us previously, was upset that she opened a can of nasty something or other and I – though I will go to my grave knowing that it was a power issue with the console – was contrite.
In the end, I gave the client her money back for the board, and then tried to repair some broken bonds with long-time clients. I did receive some ego gratification from the whole encounter, and while I still stubbornly cling to my belief that the board was not seeing either clean, or enough, power, I finally realized that being right was not necessarily being correct.
