Armed with a few more suggestions from the shop keeper (who spoke surprisingly good English, as though he dealt with tourists frequently, which he probably did) Sam made his way to one of the racks, looking through the alphabetically arranged CDs for one by a woman named Echo.
He arrived at the spot in the rack where it should be... but wasn't. Looking at the other customer standing right by him, he noticed that the CD in question was in fact the one the other man was looking at. And only one copy, of course.
Typical. That's what I get for working at a club named Karma.
"If you decide you don't want that one, let me know," he said, only realizing the man might not speak English until after the words were out of his mouth.