By Rob Watson
An incident in Wife's store today brought back memories of the most exciting day at my gun store. Here we have a doorbell beside the store's door down stairs. Customers have learned that they can ring the bell and one of us will open up for them. Today just after Wife locked up, the bell rang and she went to open up again. An hour later she returned with a disturbed expression on her face. She had had two men come in and behave rather strangely. " If I ever call you on your cell phone but do not say anything, Come down stairs immediately... there may be trouble." Now, on to my story.
If you go to some gun stores today you will find the clerks armed, usually with a sidearm of one sort or another. I had considered that, but began advertizing on a mostly ladies radio station. This drew a noticeable number of regular lady customers. I decided the 'armed clerk' might be counter productive. However I did hide a large revolver under the cash register.
When I had my gun store, Blackie, a customer, would come and hang out, keeping me company. Sometimes he, being knowledgable about guns, would help other customers. We talked a lot and got to be good friends. Blackie knew about the large revolver.
One afternoon, late, four young men, probably in their twenties, entered the store. Three went to the far corners of the store. One approached Blackie and me. This young man says "Why aren't you guys wearing guns?" Before I could spout off my lame comment, Blackie says "Just cause you can't see them, don't mean they are not there."
From time to time, I am a little slow on the uptake. I realized Blackie was bluffing for some reason. Neither of us had a weapon. We were both some 30 feet from the large revolver under the cash register. Then my eyes were opened to the similarity in dress of the four men... loose fitting nylon jackets, all with the same color pattern, black nylon cargo pants, and white athletic shoes... all widely dispursed around the store.
It is entirely possible these young men were innocently entertaining themselves by looking around gun stores. That is not what I believed at that moment. With pounding heart I casually walked over to the large revolver under the cash register. I began to plan the best way to defend myself from four targets with six bullets.
I decided the talker was the leader and should be taken down first. Then I would look for the one who posed the greatest threat after the action started. Blackie was seated next to the empty shotguns. The shells were stacked immediately below the 'self defense' weapons. He later related his plan was to burst a box of shells on the floor, grab the self defense gun and defend himself.
I began my own brag. (I had learned to be proficent with rifles and decided to learn to shoot pistols. The local gun club had monthly competition where you run from place to place shooting at steel targets. you are scored on time, all targets must be hit. Each course required about 50 shots. Most competitors had high capacity semiauto pistols. Because revolvers are more reliable, I chose to use one of them. I would have to reload twice as often as the semiautos. I decided my stratagy to be competitive was not to miss... no misses, no extra reloading times.) "Say, Blackie, Did I tell you I have gone five months in the pistol competition at the gun range without missing a target... That is about 250 shots on targets without a single miss." (yes it is true.)
After a few minutes, as if on silent signal, the four left the store. Blackie and I decided they were casing us and would be back to rob us. The shotgun was immediately loaded and returned to it place on the rack. It would ever remain so. When it was time to close, still fearful of a robbery, I locked the doors and carried the shotgun out the back with me to my car.
We never saw four young men in gang clothing again. I will always be convinced that Blackie's bluff,
"Just 'cause you don't see them... " saved us from an unpleasant experience.
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