Someone really wise once said something like “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” Well, shame on me, Raquet Doctor in Atwater Village. Shame. On. Me. This purportedly venerable tennis equipment establishment on Glendale Boulevard fooled me first about three years ago when I dropped my tennis racquet off to be restrung and regripped and was told to come back the following day to pick it up. When I did it was neither restrung nor regripped and I had to wait more than an hour for them to rush-job it all the while with attitude and not even the slightest apology for wasting my time. I stormed out and vowed never to go there again. But back then I lived in the Valley and I had several tennis shop options in my vicinity. Now that I’m here on the eastside of the westside those options are slim.
So this afternoon on my lunch break I run my trusty Prince stick over figuring lightning can’t strike me twice, right? Wrong. I order up the strings and the grip and I’m told by the friendly counterguy that the work will be done in 45 minutes. Speedy, but I ask if I can come back and pick it up after 5 p.m. and he tells me it’s cool since they’re open until 7. Uh, no they’re not. At least not when I roll up to the front door at 5:10 and find the place locked up tight and dark inside. No note. Nothing. Just a sign that says “New Hours” and next to Wednesday it reads “10 a.m. to 7 p.m.” Oh, how that sucks!
In short folks, while the place obviously can’t have stayed in business so long without doing something right, if you’re in need of tennis-related anything, I say avoid the joint at all costs. People may swear by ’em, but they just make me swear at ’em as the two times I’ve frequented the place with three years in between, they’ve fucked up 100%. For a Raquet Doctor that’s a crappy malpractice ratio. And frankly I will not be at all surprised when I storm in tomorrow to find my racquet unstrung and ungripped.