Okay, so a couple of weeks ago I signed Corey up for a single piano lesson, just to get an idea of whether or not it's something he could tolerate. I explained that Corey was a six year old with poor vision, erratic social skills, and a huge desire to conquer the world of piano. (Okay, a huge desire to learn how to play his favorite song on our Casio keyboard, at least.)
Anyhow, I made sure that they set him up with just the right kind of teacher and handed over my $19 and change for the one 30-minute lesson. The lady scheduling the lesson then walked me around the store and showed me a few interesting piano books that would work well for a beginner with poor eyesight. I selected two items (a book of Beatles ballads and a key chart,) and the nice lady politely rang them up for me. That's it, we were all ready for Corey's upcoming piano lesson!
Well tonight was the big night and Corey was SO EXCITED to get to his lesson. We got there early and waited. Then we waited. We waited some more. As the clock nudged past the 6:30 starting time, I finally asked the drum instructor, (funny enough, it appeared he had a slight hearing deficit,) if I should just take Corey back to his classroom. He escorted us back to a room where we were introduced to Corey's instructor, Miss J.
Corey climbed right up to the piano and found the middle C while Miss J asked him about himself. Then she turned to me and asked, "Where are Corey's books?" Books? Nobody in the 45 minutes that I spent browsing the store and putting this thing together had said anything about books. I reiterated to Miss J that we were just doing a one time lesson to see if Corey had any sort of aptitude for piano and that I was just told, "That'll be $19!"
Miss J then informed me that he has to have books to learn, then slowly (and my lord, I do mean SLOWLY,) stood up and started hobbling toward the adjacent music store. The whole time I'm thinking to myself, "There had better be a shared book used specifically for music instruction in this room..."
We got into the store, and I glanced at the clock and noticed that we're a good 7 minutes into our 30-minute trial lesson and Corey has yet to play a note. Did I mention I paid $19 for this 30 minute chunk of time? Miss J showed me two little kiddie books that Corey needed and started wandering toward the register with them. Naturally, as we passed the scheduling office in the store, I paused to talk to the 'professionals' who set up the lessons.
I quickly asked why I had not been informed of my need to purchase books
before I showed up for the (ONE $19 30-minute) music lesson, and the lady at the desk gave me a blank look and said, "Well, they need books to learn. Besides, they're only $5, so that comes to... $11.61!" Wow. We're up to $30.61 for Corey's one $19 30-minute piano lesson, in case you're keeping track.
Once the flames stopped shooting out of my ears, I angrily asked again why this had not been brought up before the beginning of my son's one $19 30-minute piano lesson, especially after they ran me around the store showing me all kinds of useful books that were not required for piano lessons. Then I pointedly asked whether they realized that Corey's one $19 30-minute lesson was 1/3 of the way over and Corey had yet to do a thing? I then suggested that perhaps we should reschedule the actual lesson since they had completely wasted a good portion of Corey's time and was then condescendingly told, "Well. I don't believe we can reschedule at the LAST minute!"
Really. Miss J stepped in at this point, grabbed the necessary books and said she would hurry back with Corey to get the lesson underway while I once again went round and round with the staff of the music store. By the time the conversation was over, four employees looked rather embarrassed/ angry/ aloof/ superior; I don't know for sure what they were thinking. All I knew was that this was the last time I'd be dealing with them, regardless of what the manager will say when she calls me tomorrow at my insistence.
At this point, I had forked over my $30.61 for Corey's one 30-minute piano lesson, and went outside to calm myself. I headed into the waiting room after about 5 minutes of downtime, and I heard Corey yelling, "Mom, Mom, come listen!" I popped into the room and proudly and patiently watched Corey play the two little songs he had learned (during his 15 minutes of actual instruction as opposed to the one $19 30-minute lesson I'd signed up for.)
I asked Miss J if she thought Corey had the ability and dexterity necessary for playing the piano and she said she thought so, he really seemed to want to learn and had flat out memorized everything she put in front of him. She showed me what she thought Corey should work on next and asked, "So, Mom, what are you going to do?"
I looked at her and explained that I was having a hard time justifying $19 per one half-hour session as it was, and that the evening's events had me wondering whether I should look around or even pursue piano lessons at this time at all; four 30-minute lessons a month at $19 a pop really added up!
I kid you not, Miss J looked aghast as she exclaimed, "Well of course you realize that children of this age really need to be taking TWO lessons a week, especially when they learn so fast and become bored without encouragement!" I seriously almost laughed out loud when she said this, but I just smiled politely and said (okay, a little sarcastically,) "Yea, we'll give you a call. Real soon! Say goodbye, Corey!"
This year was no different, and even though I warned them not to be disappointed, you could tell they were. Until they saw that Mommy got a pair, too. Now they are thrilled!
