Nicolas Ruibal New York City

Nicolas Ruibal's PRS

I had finally saved enough money to do it… I left Geneva and flew to New York where I knew I’d find the axe of my dreams. But I landed on a Wednesday afternoon sick as a dog, with a flu I was dragging from back home, so I had to suffer through that first. By Sunday, I was healthy enough to embark on my pilgrimage to Guitar Center. The train dropped me off at Union Square, I walked two blocks west, and then I took a right to open the gates to what seemed like guitar heaven…Or was it hell? There were so many to choose from! Suddenly crippled by choice, I realized I wasn’t in Geneva anymore. I had gone in planning to purchase a Les Paul, but I just wasn’t sure, and two trips to the store later, I still couldn’t decide. Then it was the day before I had to go back home. I couldn’t fathom the idea of going back empty-handed, and just when I thought making a choice was all but impossible – that’s when I eyed the PRS corner. Of course… Why hadn’t I thought of a PRS before? Oh, right, because PRS guitars were a badge of honor, and I hadn’t felt worthy of one. I hadn’t earned it yet. I remembered a teenaged version of myself fantasizing about these beauties on the pages of Guitar World Magazine…but then again, I wasn’t a teenager anymore. Could I really be ready for this? I tried two Custom 24s – a blue one and a cherry one, both so beautiful! As I tried every riff I knew, I realized that my entire trip had been leading up to this moment. It made complete sense – I was ready. The choice was clear, and I always did love the color red. The store was closing by the time I’d made up my mind, and I wasn’t carrying a credit card. Not now, I thought, not when I was so close! Thankfully, a kind salesperson agreed to wait for me as I rushed to the nearest bank to get cash. I hurried back looking like an awkward tourist with my pockets stuffed with bills, but it didn’t matter. At long last, I had found my guitar. That trip to NYC left an indelible mark on me, and it’s thanks to this amazing instrument that I took home. Nowadays, I (half-jokingly) refer to it as my wife. She also has a name: Elizabeth. As fate would have it, and with a few more trips under my belt, I chose to move to New York permanently in 2013. To this day, my PRS remains my trusty companion off-stage, and on-stage with my band, Von Voigt, but that’s a whole other story…

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