I only heard one side of this conversation, but it still perked my ears up.
"Gun Shop, help ya?"Now, I really believe that if someone owns a gun they should not only know how to use it, but should know what kind of gun it is. I don't really care if people don't know the make and model of their guns, but they ought to know if it's a shotgun, rifle, pistol, or revolver. Can I just say I feel a lot better that this gun is currently in our hands at the shop and not his?
"You're calling to check on the status of your gun. What kind of gun is it?"
"It's a revolver with a clip?" (Note to non-gun people, revolvers don't have clips or magazines)
"Mmhhmm. Is it a revolver or a semi-auto?"
"It's a revolver. With a clip." Pause, "I'll have to check with the gunsmith on this one."
Of course, you may feel the same about me as I feel about that customer after you hear my next GunDiva Fail.
When I was working the sales floor at the Gun Shop, I was armed at all times. Now that I'm just a glorified data entry person, I never carry. Since I'm working in the office, the bad guys would have to fight their way through three other armed people to get to me and from where I sit in the office, I have three loaded weapons within reach at all times. Carrying would kind of be overkill.
A little backstory: My first handgun was a Glock 23. I loved that gun; my family had all pitched in to buy it for me for my birthday one year. Over time, I realized that although I loved, loved that gun, it didn't fit my hand well and I was getting serious about competing, so I had to find a gun that fit my hand better. Luckily, I had a lot of shooting friends who were generous with their guns and I got to shoot all kinds of guns until I found one that I loved even more than my Glock. My friend Z let me shoot his Para LTC and I fell head-over-heels in love with it. The Glock went away and the Para arrived.
The sidewall of the desk in the office is metal and the boss keeps supermagnets on it. I'm still not sure why he's got a whole passel of them on the sidewall, but for well over a year I paid them no mind other than to just play with them. I could mosey into the office, cock a Glock-holstered hip against the desk's sidewall and talk to the boss without any problems.
Until I switched from my Glock to my new Para LTC.
About a month or so after I got my new Para, I went into the office to talk to the boss about something, took up my usual position and felt a thunk. I looked down and saw that those supermagnets had gotten ahold of my gun. Not a problem, it's just a magnet, right?
No, it wasn't just *a* magnet. It wasn't just *a* supermagnet. It was the whole passel of supermagents. They had all been attracted to my gun and I was stuck. Not just a little stuck, either. Now, this was at the time when I was my fittest. I didn't weigh a whole lot, but I was strong. The boss sat in his chair and watched with amusement as I tried to disengage myself from the magnets. Nothing doing. I struggled a bit more and succeeded in getting even more stuck (as if it was possible). That struggling caused the magnets to move, but not disengage.
The gun was new and the holster was new, so the gun didn't slide out of it easily. By the time I finished trying to free myself, I was on my tippy-toes, hanging by my gun attached to the desk. I threw up my hands and looked at Boss.
He made some smartass comment about me getting stuck and got up to help me. It took both of us (he's 6'4" and well over 250#) to break me free of the damn supermagnets.
It didn't stop the smartass remarks, but he did have to admit that there was no way I'd've been able to break away from those by myself.
GunDiva Fail #2
Note: I still cannot walk into the office without giving the sidewall as large a berth as possible, despite the fact that I'm not armed when I walk into the office. I am easily trainable.