The sign is as direct as can be:
“Listen to Any CD in the World.” It doesn’t get much clearer than that.
I had my doubts. “Any CD in the World” covers a lot of territory. Even Shazam misses a song now and then.
I looked for an asterisk, maybe some telltale teeny-tiny small print. Nothing.
I took a picture. A Barnes & Noble guy walked over. I explained my doubt.
“Oh no,” he said, looking corporately pained. “Have you tried it? Just type in anything. We don’t have to have it in the store. It gets everything.”
I strolled into the CD department.. I’ve only used the 1990s-era listening devices to sample 30-second snippets of in-stock music, via bar codes. A helpful clerk showed me how to type in the name of “any CD in the world.”
I was thinking they might have missed a CD or 2 in Djibouti, or perhaps Papua New Guinea. But I decided to start with an easy one.
I typed in “Midi and the Modern Dance.” They’re a local band with a strong following — and a CD on iTunes. Surely, a Westport store with “any CD in the world” would have Westport music. Right?
Wrong.
Nothing.
I turned plaintively to the clerk.
“It says ‘Any CD in the World,'” I complained.
She laughed. “That sign’s a lie. There’s tons of stuff it doesn’t have. I can’t believe the sign is still there.”
Neither can I, Barnes & Noble. Neither can I.
