Demi-human
maybe likes firearms a little bit…
@igotta40 ’s thread about not so great shops, found here Ever regretted going to a LGS? , brought back a memory, a nice one.
To that end I’d like to “flip the script”.
“Has there ever been a Local-Smalltown Gun Shop that you’ve visited that has wowed you, but you’ve never gotten a chance to go back?”
A bit lazy on my part, scarfing another’s thread...
But, it reminded me of a time…
I was looking around online for some LGSs to visit, as they seem to be sparse here in this part of the woods. I had a list for G Rap as we go there often for appointments. Making the rounds, many were very modern, normal shops. Silver Bullet being one of the good ones.
The last loop brought me through an industrial part of town to what looked like a manufacturing office. Commercial space is space, whatever. So my son, who was like five, and needed to get out of the truck, and I walked up to the tinted windows and went inside.
I think I was looking for shops to transfer suppressors.
Anyway, on the other side of the tinted aluminum storefront was one of the nicest shops I’ve ever been in. For anything!
The tile floor was so clean I was afraid to walk upon it! We step inside and I look around, my eyes glaze over.
A counter man is there and smiles at me as I take it in.
I turn to LittleBear and say, “Do. Not. Touch anything in here with your hands. Okay, buddy? Put your hands in your coat pockets. Their Dadi just washed all the glass, okay?”
The clerk smiled, it may not have been the first time he’s heard that.
I’ll describe it first. Past the spotless tile was a center rack of mirror polished walnut. On this rack were some of the most beautiful over/unders and double rifles I’ve ever seen!
Wood that paled the green felt covered rack it sat in. Engraved scenes that jump from the steel. Gold, like actual gold wire that is pounded in, not paint, inlay. The walls were paneled in solid oak. I could tell, I’m a carpenter. And the oak cabinets that circled the room, ducking down to a felt countertop every so often, were glistening with halogen lights. Every pool of polished blue steel in the cabinets shone with a thousand little stars. Beautiful and strange looking pistols randomly adorned the case shelves, displayed with their specific accoutrements and tiny wood holders of cartridges.
They had an oldetimey brass cash machine too, but it was digital on the other side.
I explained that I was in the wrong place but we had driven a lot today, and while we weren’t really going to buy anything, would it be okay for us to look? I wasn’t interrupting an appointment or anything?
The counterman looked quizzed and I heard a laugh from around the corner.
“Of course you can look! You don’t need an appointment.”
(But could I afford to look?!)
Littlebear and I perused a bit as I heard papers shuffle to their places.
Bachelder! Sorry, I just remembered the shop.
(Sometimes my posts are weird because it’s just me talking into a mic and making corrections. It literally is just what flows out of my brains when I speak on here.)
So the gentleman behind the corner comes out and starts to show LB, and me as well but I think it was really for Little Bear, all sorts of firearms that sound like beer. In chamberings only the Germans know. Each more special than the last.
LittleBear likes, ta daa, bears. He had one! A rifle, for shooting bears, with bears on it!
Scenes are nice, but I just loved all the perfectly symmetrical scrollwork.
I’m sure I could have fumbled at least a couple thousand dollars to the floor at a time. So I refused to hold any. I’m glad he didn’t insist.
“These are the nicest things I’ve ever seen.” I stammered.
“Oh, I can’t show you the nice ones. I don’t own those.” A sly grin crept his face.
I admit to learning very little. Awe struck makes me forgetful.
I enjoyed formal conversation, a scarcity, and he was nothing but pleasant. The counter clerk watched the entire time. I couldn’t help but think he was seeing a master working. But then, he saw him perform magic in the back as well, so, smart kid.
He was more than happy to transfer any suppressor I may buy and could help me do it if needed. (Turns out I make my own.)
In all, the most emotionally rewarding gun shop visit ever. It was nice to be treated like the same kind of high class connoisseur that would normally frequent a shop like this, kid in tow even.
Now, I actually can go back. I don’t know whatever for. It isn’t me to fingerprint up things I could never actually procure. But I guess I could go dream some more.
So, how’s about y’all? Ever been traveling and come across a shop you’ll never get to see again but you wish you could?
What was the best visit you had that didn’t end in a purchase?
I need some good stories! We may need to reminisce a bit here!
https://www.gunbroker.com/Auction/search?IncludeSellers=594178
I took a second to find this. At first blush there isn’t any of the wonderful rifles I saw back then. But there is a reasonable sample. A p-38, a numbers matching Luger, a government marked M-12 for 16k.
But if anyone grabs the 50 year commemorative Ruger Mark II, I will end you.
See you tomorrow when I get back from GR!
To that end I’d like to “flip the script”.
“Has there ever been a Local-Smalltown Gun Shop that you’ve visited that has wowed you, but you’ve never gotten a chance to go back?”
A bit lazy on my part, scarfing another’s thread...
But, it reminded me of a time…
I was looking around online for some LGSs to visit, as they seem to be sparse here in this part of the woods. I had a list for G Rap as we go there often for appointments. Making the rounds, many were very modern, normal shops. Silver Bullet being one of the good ones.
The last loop brought me through an industrial part of town to what looked like a manufacturing office. Commercial space is space, whatever. So my son, who was like five, and needed to get out of the truck, and I walked up to the tinted windows and went inside.
I think I was looking for shops to transfer suppressors.
Anyway, on the other side of the tinted aluminum storefront was one of the nicest shops I’ve ever been in. For anything!
The tile floor was so clean I was afraid to walk upon it! We step inside and I look around, my eyes glaze over.
A counter man is there and smiles at me as I take it in.
I turn to LittleBear and say, “Do. Not. Touch anything in here with your hands. Okay, buddy? Put your hands in your coat pockets. Their Dadi just washed all the glass, okay?”
The clerk smiled, it may not have been the first time he’s heard that.
I’ll describe it first. Past the spotless tile was a center rack of mirror polished walnut. On this rack were some of the most beautiful over/unders and double rifles I’ve ever seen!
Wood that paled the green felt covered rack it sat in. Engraved scenes that jump from the steel. Gold, like actual gold wire that is pounded in, not paint, inlay. The walls were paneled in solid oak. I could tell, I’m a carpenter. And the oak cabinets that circled the room, ducking down to a felt countertop every so often, were glistening with halogen lights. Every pool of polished blue steel in the cabinets shone with a thousand little stars. Beautiful and strange looking pistols randomly adorned the case shelves, displayed with their specific accoutrements and tiny wood holders of cartridges.
They had an oldetimey brass cash machine too, but it was digital on the other side.
I explained that I was in the wrong place but we had driven a lot today, and while we weren’t really going to buy anything, would it be okay for us to look? I wasn’t interrupting an appointment or anything?
The counterman looked quizzed and I heard a laugh from around the corner.
“Of course you can look! You don’t need an appointment.”
(But could I afford to look?!)
Littlebear and I perused a bit as I heard papers shuffle to their places.
Bachelder! Sorry, I just remembered the shop.
(Sometimes my posts are weird because it’s just me talking into a mic and making corrections. It literally is just what flows out of my brains when I speak on here.)
So the gentleman behind the corner comes out and starts to show LB, and me as well but I think it was really for Little Bear, all sorts of firearms that sound like beer. In chamberings only the Germans know. Each more special than the last.
LittleBear likes, ta daa, bears. He had one! A rifle, for shooting bears, with bears on it!
Scenes are nice, but I just loved all the perfectly symmetrical scrollwork.
I’m sure I could have fumbled at least a couple thousand dollars to the floor at a time. So I refused to hold any. I’m glad he didn’t insist.
“These are the nicest things I’ve ever seen.” I stammered.
“Oh, I can’t show you the nice ones. I don’t own those.” A sly grin crept his face.
I admit to learning very little. Awe struck makes me forgetful.
I enjoyed formal conversation, a scarcity, and he was nothing but pleasant. The counter clerk watched the entire time. I couldn’t help but think he was seeing a master working. But then, he saw him perform magic in the back as well, so, smart kid.
He was more than happy to transfer any suppressor I may buy and could help me do it if needed. (Turns out I make my own.)
In all, the most emotionally rewarding gun shop visit ever. It was nice to be treated like the same kind of high class connoisseur that would normally frequent a shop like this, kid in tow even.
Now, I actually can go back. I don’t know whatever for. It isn’t me to fingerprint up things I could never actually procure. But I guess I could go dream some more.
So, how’s about y’all? Ever been traveling and come across a shop you’ll never get to see again but you wish you could?
What was the best visit you had that didn’t end in a purchase?
I need some good stories! We may need to reminisce a bit here!
https://www.gunbroker.com/Auction/search?IncludeSellers=594178
I took a second to find this. At first blush there isn’t any of the wonderful rifles I saw back then. But there is a reasonable sample. A p-38, a numbers matching Luger, a government marked M-12 for 16k.
But if anyone grabs the 50 year commemorative Ruger Mark II, I will end you.
See you tomorrow when I get back from GR!