My husband recently sent me to Sportsman's Warehouse to pick up a pocket holster for his pistol. I know, you are wondering why he sent me instead of going himself. It just so happens I was going to Sonic to indulge in my craving for some ice cream and Sportsman's Warehouse is right up the street. Sounds silly, but this is how things go in my house.
My husband has had one of these said pocket holsters before, so I knew what he wanted. I'm also not a complete retard where guns are concerned. I'm quite proud of this fact truth be told. So, when my knowledge about guns and "gun things" is put into question, I get a little upset.
I have gone into this store, on more than one occasion, for holsters, snap caps, gun bags, you name it. This particular time I can't seem to find his holster. I call Brandon, tell him I can't find it, and he says to ask someone. I politely tell him it isn't here, and he insists that it is. Maybe they moved them or something he said.
What seemed like a nice enough gentleman comes up and asks if he can help me find something. I tell him exactly what I want. I tell him the kind of holster and also the make and model of the gun. He looks at me sideways.
"Well, I don't see what you're looking for here. Maybe your husband should come in with the pistol."
"No.....I'm here now, and I know what I'm looking for. My husband has had one before. You guys appear to be out of them."
"I just, I just, don't see that particular one here. Are you sure that's the kind you want? Maybe your husband really should come in with the pistol."
I see where he is going with this. The look on his face, and the way he was talking let me know right quick he didn't think I knew what I was talking about. He was talking down to me, like "This is man's stuff. Run along now, and bring you husband in so we can figure out what he wants because you couldn't possibly know."
That's fine...meet me on the gun range asshole, I'll show you what I know.
2 comments:
Ladies and gentlemen, dear readers of "It's Always Something." I am the author's brother-in-law and have heard this sound before.
That last paragraph? That's the sound of the whip cracking.
Get 'em, Mandie. And get pictures:)
tweaker
I had the same thing when I called to order my P220. The guy was like "Oh I don't think that would be a good gun for you". And I said "order it". I show up. . he still says. . "well that's not really a ladies gun. . it takes a big hand". And I take it in my large mitts (those long fingers are good for more than playing the piano). put on my eye and ear protection. Placed a target. . ran it out to 50 feet and shot a bullseye. .Took it down, took off the eyes and ears, paid for the gun and left. When I bought my M4A2 I bought it from someone else.
Post a Comment