A Local Form Of Gun Control

(I work at a sports supply store. An African-American man appears with what looks like nothing on him, until he pulls out a pistol.)

Man: “I’d like to buy this, please.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Man: “I wanna buy this gun.”

Me: “Uh, sir, how did you get that?”

Man: “The h*** you talking about? I got it from your gun rack! In the back of the store!”

Me: “Why didn’t you check it out from the man at the counter back there?”

Man: “There was no one there.”

Me: “But how did you get the gun?”

Man: *getting angrier that I’m not understanding* “I got it from the gun rack!”

Me: “In the gun case?”

Man: “YES, WHERE THE H*** ELSE?!”

Me: “Sir, that’s a locked case! How did you get it out?”

Man: “It wasn’t locked!”

Me: “Sir, please, you need to go put back that gun and wait for the attendant to come back to the desk.”

Man: “Can’t you just check me out?”

Me: “No! I don’t have that kind of authority. We need to check to make sure you’re actually allowed to carry a gun.”

Man: “What, you calling me a criminal?!”

Me: “No! I just can’t—”

Man: “I see! You don’t want me carrying a gun ’cause you think I’m black!”

Me: *embarrassed* “No, no, sir, I was just saying that, legally speaking, we have to—”

Man: “This is discrimination! You should be arrested!”

Me: *now getting mad myself, and decide to make sure I get my point across* “Sir, I’m saying that I cannot, LEGALLY CANNOT, let you buy that gun. It is not because you are black. It is because you are in the United States of America, and the US says you have to show proper ID and make a license for the gun. I am not discriminating. I am trying to not be arrested. Now if you do not want to obey those rules, then you are free to put the gun down right here and LEAVE.”

(There is a moment of silence, and the man stares at me.)

Man: “Thank you.”

Me: “What?”

Man: “Thank you. This was a test, set up by [My Boss]. And you passed.”

(I looked around, and My Boss, the store manager, was about a hundred feet away, giving me a thumbs-up.)