Any amusing stories about friends discovering guns in your house?

[kamagong]

Not a friend, but a few months ago my three-year-old nephew came over and saw my newly acquired Garand from the CMP. His eyes immediately got big and I could tell that I found me a new shooting buddy (too bad it won't be for a few years). I quickly grabbed a camera and snapped off this picture.

 

[deadhawg]

We recently met some new nieghbors who invited us over for a BBQ. We already knew they were from Texas(we now live in CA), so when he brought up the subject of guns we were not surprised, but I think he expected us to be anti's. He mentioned he had a Ruger P89 and his wife had a S&W .38. He was a little surprised when I said I also had a P89 and my wife also had a S&W .38, a 642 to be exact. He went in the house and brought out his P89 and .38 to show us, and was blown away when my wife pulled out her 642 from her IWB holster to show him. He had absolutely no idea she was carrying. He was even more surprised when I pulled out my IWB G30 and told him while I liked my P89, it was just too big for every day carry.

Ron

 

[hso]

I lived in a third floor apartment in the University area. The guy next door was a senior football player for the university and he shared that apartment with his older brother who played Canadian football. We were on head nodding friendly terms.

One evening several friends were over visiting while a very noisy party was going on on the ground floor and out into the parking lot. Pretty good natured party, but very very loud. I'm sitting on the floor with my back against a bookcase and generally facing the door, half a dozen friends are sitting on the furniture in a general "L" position. The outside door is at the tip of the small arm of the "L".

The older brother in the next apartment slams the door open and begins to yell at the revelers below. They taunt back. He yells louder and becomes angrier. I look at the door as the shouts filter through and the conversation stops for a moment as my friends listen to the garbled exchange. The neighbor quits yelling at the party and his apartment door slams closed. We collectively shrug and return to our conversation.

The neighbor's door slams open again and I hear the "kachunk!" of a shotgun followed by "BOOM"-"kachunk", "BOOM"-kachunk, "BOOM" and silence followed by "Shut the ****" and the door slamming again. With the first "kachunk" all conversation had stopped in my apartment. With the final "BOOM" everyone in the apartment realized that there were 3 handguns pointed at the apartment door.

I had reached into the bookcase on the first "kachunk" and had racked the slide on a Browning .32 and pointed it at the door before the second "kachunk". One friend had pulled a PPK-S from somewhere on his person and was pointing it at my apartment door. Another had a Ruger pointed at the door. The three of us all realized what had happened, nodded to each other and calmly put our guns away after the door slammed closed next door. Our other friends were all frozen in place. Since there was no screaming and wailing from below I got up and checked the lock on the door and asked if anyone wanted a soda.

The police were not happy with the neighbor, but did not take him to jail because he'd replace the shot in the 12 gauge shells with wadded toilet paper. Very stupid and lucky.

 

[theotherwaldo]

My family had a sort of tradition back in the '60's and '70's. Almost every year after the last day of school we'd pack up our valuables, dump our junk, move out of our rental house and camp out all summer. Come fall, we'd find some rental house and settle back in.

In '66, that led us to moving all the way across the street into the house that was just vacated by Dennis Smith, the biggest over-protected mama's boy that I had ever met - and his mama, of course. Both of them were terrified of guns. Mama's boy and I had spent the previous year in the same 4th grade classroom, mostly ignoring each other.

Well, we started in to cleaning the pigsty that they left. Several cubic yards of well-pawed Playboys, half a ton of broken toys, once-worn clothing, the usual spoiled-brat stuff.

Then we start to find guns. A '94 .30-30 on a high closet shelf, a P-38 and a bunch of soldier's love letters under the pull-out steps that led to the closet, a nice little 1908 Colt .380 in the back of a built-in phone shelf.

Every time we'd find a gun, dad would take it to Mrs. Smith and ask her if she wanted it back. Her response at first was to turn pale, say "Of course not", and close the door. After the third time, she'd just look through the little window in her door and shake her head. After the fifth, a rusty Fox double from the coal room, she said that she would call the police if we brought any more guns to her door, and that I was to stay away from her sweet little Dennis. (Big loss.) When I said that we found several of the guns in his old room she started screaming and slammed the door in our faces.

We found two more guns in that house, for a total of seven.

I didn't see much of the Smiths before we moved on.

 

[SgtWaldo]

My nephew found my carbine and went crying to his mother. He ask his mother if the gun would kill him.
My sister is what she calls progressive. She ask me to get rid of the "thing" or they would leave.
It's sad but they haven't been in my home since 1983.

 

[Deanimator]

Not my house, but during my junior year of college, the idiot drug dealer across the hall from me took a bunch of money from some fraternity pledges for some dope. He gave the money upfront to a guy in town he didn't know. After a week or two of no dope and no money, a bunch of the prospective frat rats trooped into the dorm to kick the crap out of him and take his stuff to make up their loss. A bunch of us were down in the basement rec room when a guy came down to warn us of the bunch of "townies" who were upstairs. We went upstairs and found out what was going on. We quickly started loading guns in our rooms. The lookout left in the hall by the dissatisfied drug purchasers got VERY nervous hearing all of the bolts, pumps and slides being worked. He alerted the frat rats in the dealer's room. We told them that they were welcome to do what pleased them with the dealer, but that they'd have to do it to him some place else. They left.

Epilog:

Somebody in the dorm (not us) told the Dean of Student Life. All of the principles were expelled, including the dealer's dim-witted wouldbe hitman "bodyguard". Thinking (erroneously) that we had gotten him expelled, he threatened to kill us. That got an unexpected reaction from us. After a few head games on our part, we told him that if anything happened to any one of us, regardless of the circumstances, he'd end up dead in the trunk of his car, left in front of the St. Lous Greyhound station with the engine running. I spent finals week typing term papers with a riotgun across my knees. A few days later, I was cleaning my Ithaca Deerslayer Police Special when somebody knocked on the door. It was the "hitman", to get payment for some calls I'd made on his phone. Being of the suspicious type, I picked the riotgun up, pointing it at the door. He walked in and right onto the muzzle with his crotch. He turned pale and explained he was there for the phone bill. I told him to stand in the corner while I wrote him a check. I never saw him again.

 

[mjrodney]

I once lived in a house that was partially hidden from the street by heavy vegetation.

A path wound its way thru the vegetation and literally dumped you at the front stoop.

That privacy allowed me to clean my firearms on the front porch, where the smell of solvent wouldn't annoy my bride.

One day, a religious group suddenly appeared at my feet with literature in their hand.

Their smiling faces quickly turned to "shock and awe" as they suddenly came upon me, sitting on the stoop with a revolver in my hand.

One of them stammered something unintelligable and left a pamphlet at my feet before they all quickly shuffled back out onto the street.

I didn't mean to frighten anyone, but it was kind of humerous. I don't recall them ever stopping by again.

 

[ReadyontheRight]

My father did not believe in gun cabinets, and he even balked at a gun safe. He assumed that a robber would then know where all the guns are and would eventually break in.

So...he hid guns all over the house.

My Mom's Aunt was visiting in the 1970s. She had grown up on a farm and was a strong lady - even in her 60s. We had a sofa that folded down flat for sleeping. She knew exactly how it worked, but she could not get it to fold down all the way. She eventually bent the sofa so it never really worked right again.

She finally reached under the cusions to see what was in the way. You guess it - a Remington Sportsman 58 hidden where you are supposed to store a pillow and blankets.

I eventually inherited the sofa (a 60s-retro vinyl "Cowboy" couch) and the shotgun. The gun's still around and shooting great, but the sofa is long gone.

 

[Packman]

Not funny so much as cute...

A couple of months ago my 4 year old niece saw me walk out of my room with an AK slung over my back, and she looked at me and went...
"Hey, are you going shooting?"

So I went "Yep, tomorrow. Wanna go?"

She goes "Nah, maybe later. Grandma's making dinner."

I just laughed. Good to see my sister's raising her right. Doesn't hurt any that her dad has guns too, I imagine.

 

[dewage83]

Well my buddy came over just as I was about to go to sleep, so I stuck the pump back into the couch. ( Me and my girlfriend live in a studio appt. and have no place for a safe) So needless to say, he lost his lighter earlier and assumed it was in the coutch coushins. I let him look as he isnt an anti-. The look on his face was priceless.

 

[RP88]

I screwed with my friend the first time he toyed with my shotgun. He was aiming it at the TV to dry-fire, so I yelled "It's f--king loaded! put it down s--t!" He flipped out and dropped the gun on the ground.

I started laughing and told him that I was kidding, and that he should always check before screwing around with a gun (the gun was not loaded, since I do not store my guns in such a way). His heart attack reaction was priceless, at least to me. He was kind of mad at me though.

 

[coloradokevin]

Had a hippie-like friend in college. Great gal, but a little too idealist for her own good.

One day she was at my place hanging out, and we were having quasi-political debates (as we often did).

She was saying how all gun owners must be freaks, and she could never see herself hanging out with a gun owner.

As she said this she was leaning up against my gun cabinet, which she apparently mistook as something else. I handed her the key and asked her to grab something from the cabinet for me

We had been good friends for a while at that point, and I had avoided the gun topic because I knew it wasn't her thing... She didn't convert that night, but I think she at least came to terms with the fact that not all gun owners are nut-jobs!

 

[TallPine]

Oh, I guess I should mention the time that the JW's came to our door and I was open carrying my revolver as usual. They haven't been back

 

[crewzer]

Well my female buddy comes over with her new born(less than 2 months old). He is in his basket cradle thingamajig (can't you tell I don't have children) and she excuses herself to go to the restroom. Well she knows that I have firearms. As she is seated upon the throne, she looks into the glass doored cabinet in front of her, noticing my Stainles Charter Arms 38spcl. A shrill little scream, mostly of what is going to happen if her son gets a hold of my gun. I told her I wasn't getting caught with my pants down. Would that be condition "brown" I kindly point out that he cant get out of the thinkgamajig yet, when he can I will police the house. Glad she didnt see the couch magnum, the kitchen glock, or the Colt Lawman III garage gun. We won't even go into the Mossberg entry gun, and misc assorted knives etc.

 

[LawofThirds]

Heh. Kitchen Glock.

 

[crewzer]

Kitchen Glock

Isn't that were you keep your Tupperware? hehe

 

[Cougfan2]

When I lived in KS, I had been rabbit hunting one day and after I got back and cleaned the rabbits, I was in the garage with the door open and had just picked up my Ithaca 37 to clean it when I hear footsteps coming up my driveway. Here I am with blood on the backs of my hands and up my arms. I turn around and here is this Jehovahs Witness with a handful of tracts. His eyes got big and he stammers "It appears I've come bad time". He quick steps it down the road. I couldn't stop laughing for 5 minutes.

 

[t3rmin]

"Condition brown" I love it!

 

[crewzer]

"Condition brown" I love it!

And don't forget "Condition Clear". You know when you are shampooing your head, and you scare the crap out of your wife. haha. Usually leads to Condition Brown.

 

[Dorryn]

Buddy of mine just stopped by one day. All of a sudden I hear, "Holy crap!" I looked at him kind of concerned, wondering what the problem was. He says, "I knew you had guns, but there's one right on the kitchen table." "Oh yeah," I said, "I guess I must have left it there." "Is it loaded?!" "Of course it is!" Then he laughed. I kind of shrugged and smiled. I leave that Glock just about anywhere without thinking too much of it, I guess if one isnt familiar with or used to firearms, seeing one just casually sitting around unattended might be shocking.

 

[Vaarok]

Anybody who's never freaked a Jehova Witness or a Mormon missionary by cleaning guns on their porch doesn't have a porch or hasn't been into firearms long enough.

 

[TAB]

I had a friend cream in his shorts when he opened one of the safes to get some ammo out... we were going duck hunting in the morning and he was spending the night... He was not expecting to see what was in that safe...

 

[bumm]

My dad collected hundreds of guns. Literally. He had them stashed all over the house... in all the closets, under everything, paper bags full of pistols, EVERYWHERE. For years after he died back in '98, they kept turning up, and it turned into a running joke and a family legend. Finally, we thought we'd claimed or gotten rid of everything, but when my mom moved into an apartment the movers found 5 rifles stashed around the house. (An M1 Garand, a 1903 Springfield, a K31, and two Enfields.) My mom said they were really excited, but I'm sure she was sort of "oh yeah, that happens here..."
When I came home to help her out a bit, she wanted to pick a few things up back at the house, and and although she isn't anti at all, (how COULD she be?) she told me, "Take those guns and get 'em out of here. I don't care what you do with 'em." I already had what I wanted, and said she might want to sell them to a local fellow we knew of. She INSISTED I take them, so I did. Later, eating lunch, she said "Thank you so much for taking those guns." I replied, "Mom, can you imagine most guy's fantasizing about having someone say that?"
Marty
Then there was the time a lady who came to help clean found a WW1 trench mace leaning on the couch in the living room...

 

[blackcash88]

I had a friend cream in his shorts when he opened one of the safes to get some ammo out...

And the gayest post of the month goes to...

 

[Avenger]

My ex-GFs smother....I mean MOTHER, oops....was a fairly virulent anti. We invited her to dinner once, and she stopped by my apartment so we could all drive to the restaurant in one car. It was the first time she'd been there and actually come inside, and her eyes went about a mile wide when she saw my Mosin 91/30 on her little stands on the shelf above the TV. "IS THAT A GUN?!?!?!" was Mommy's comment. And no matter how bad the break-up with that girlfriend ended up being, I will always love that girl for what she said next..."No Mom, it's a RIFLE."