A Different Kind Of Switching Lanes

, , , , | Right | October 28, 2019

(I work at an indoor shooting range. My coworker’s favorite anecdote is about a member who makes a reservation for himself and his friend to come in and share a lane, both of whom are regulars there. It’s packed at the time of the reservation, but they manage to keep one lane open when the customer’s friend arrives first. He explains that the member will be ten minutes late and asks if he can go in and use his own pistol in the meantime. My coworker gives him the okay, so he sets up and gets started in their lane. Ten minutes later, the member arrives.)

Member: “Hey, I had a reservation?”

Coworker: “Yeah, your buddy’s already inside on lane 20. As soon as you’re ready, you can go in.”

(The member looks surprised at this. He goes to the windows that look into the lanes, sees his friend firing away, sees that the place is packed, and comes back to the counter.)

Member: “Are there any other lanes available?”

Coworker: “No, we’re full up. But you wanted to share a lane, right?”

Member: “Yes… but… He’s supposed to share my lane.”

Coworker: “He is. We held that lane for your guys. He just got here early and wanted to get started while he was waiting for you.”

Member: “Right, but I don’t want to be on his lane. He’s supposed to be on mine. That’s how the reservation works, right? It’s the member’s lane, not the non-member’s. I can’t be on his lane.”

Coworker: *pause* “You know what? You’re right. Hold on a minute.” *turns on the microphone for the speakers inside the range* “Lane 20, please come out to the front counter.”

Friend: *comes out of the range, confused* “Hey, everything okay?”

Coworker: “Yeah, everything’s fine, but I have a favor to ask. Would you mind getting off your lane, coming back out here, and letting [Member] get on that lane before you go join him, so that you’ll be on his lane instead of him being on yours?”

Friend: *after a long pause during which he probably tries to figure out if this is some kind of trick* “Sure?”

Member: “Oh, man, thank you so much! I’m so sorry, but this is just really important!”

Friend: *now as quietly amused as my coworker* “Yeah, no problem! Totally fine!”

Member: “Man, you saved the evening!”

Coworker: “Glad to help. Enjoy yourselves.”

Member: “We will!”

(The friend dutifully packed up his bag, came back out to the counter, and then joined [Member] in returning to the same lane. My coworker still laughs about it to this day.)

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Gunning For A Win

, , , , , , | Legal | July 15, 2018

(I work at an indoor gun range where people can rent and try different guns. Every customer has to sign a liability waiver stating what their firearms experience is so we know better how to serve them. It also serves to protect us against people who may injure themselves and try to sue us. A woman who rented a gun minutes ago comes out holding onto her hand which is lightly bleeding.)

Me: “Did you get cut by the slide? It happens to everyone at some point. I’ll get you a bandage!”

Customer: “I don’t know what happened! I shot it and it cut me! I’m taking you all to court! This is your responsibility!”

Me: “But, ma’am, I thought you had extensive firearms experience. That’s what it says on your waiver!”

Customer: *frustrated and distracted from the bleeding* “WELL, I WAS LYING!”

Me: “Oh… Then you should not have lied!”

Customer: “No. You should have known what my experience was!”

Me: “I don’t know, ma’am, they don’t pay me to assess that… but they do pay me to get you that bandage!”

(She called a lawyer and lied to him, too. When she and the lawyer came in requesting the video, we showed him the liability waiver that she’d signed but neglected to mention to him. He looked at her for a moment, then walked out of the store.)

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Pretty Deadly In Pink

, , , , , , , | Friendly | July 4, 2018

(My grandfather is a retired police officer and he is very adamant that my sister and I know how to handle guns properly. Since I was five, he and my father have taken me on monthly trips which often end with a trip to the gun range. My sister has just turned five, and it is her first trip to the range. We are inside the range with our ear and eye protection on and Grandpa is doing the same thing with my sister that he did with me every time for the last three years.)

Grandpa: “Okay, [Sister], what is the first rule of guns?”

Sister: “Treat them as if they are always loaded!”

Grandpa: “And the second?”

Sister: “Only point them in a direction if you are okay with everything in that direction being shot!”

Grandpa: “And in this room that means?”

Sister: “The ground, because there is nothing underneath us but ground, and you can’t hurt the ground when you shoot it.”

Grandpa: *chuckles* “That’s true, but where else could we point a gun?”

Sister: *pointing with finger* “That way, down-range.”

Grandpa: “And where can’t we point a gun?”

Sister: “Not up, because you never ever point a gun at God. And not behind us, because the door won’t stop a bullet and we don’t want to shoot Mr. [Range Owner]. And not that way—” *to our right* “—because we don’t want to shoot the lady with the pretty gun—” *the woman in position to our right has a bright pink camo print gun* “—and not that way cause we really don’t want to shoot Mr. [Cop We Know].”

([Cop] has just pushed the button to bring his target in for examination, and he sees my sister pointing at him, and smiles and waves. Then, suddenly, his eyes get very big, he lunges forward grabs us both, pulls us to his chest, turns so his back is to where we were standing, and curls up around us. I hear a man screaming, “No,” a woman shrieking, a loud thud, something hitting the floor, and then my father shouting, “Clear!”)

Cop: *relaxes and stands up* “You two aren’t hurt are you? That was scary, but you were very brave.”

(I see Grandpa has the lady with the pink gun pinned to the wall, and Daddy is handing her gun and its clip to a very embarrassed-looking man. Grandpa lets the lady go, and she and the man practically run out the door.)

Grandpa: “And that, girls, is was a very good example of what not to do.”

(We continued our shooting lesson as normal. For years I didn’t know exactly what happened, but I brought up the story recently and Daddy told me. The lady with the pink gun was apparently there with her boyfriend, who was a regular at the range, and he was teaching her to shoot. Right about the time my sister was pointing at her, he was putting her hands on her gun to show her how to grip it. And when my sister turned to the cop, the lady also turned in the same direction, still holding her gun, and said, “So, I just hold it like this, right?” The “no” I heard was the boyfriend, who tried to grab her wrists and force the gun down. That was when she shrieked, and my Grandpa disarmed her and threw her against the wall. Then Grandpa handed the gun to Daddy and he ejected the clip before saying clear, then picked up the clip and handed it to the boyfriend.)

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Sticking To One’s Guns

| Right | July 27, 2012

(A squadmate and I from my unit are out at the range, practicing with a pair of higher-priced military style AR rifles. Both of us are wearing civilian clothes and military issue armor and ammo carriers, for practice. A guy in the next lane over has a similarly expensive gun, and the far lane is occupied by an obvious civilian with a much cheaper, wooden rifle.)

Next Lane: “Look at that s***! Only f****ts use Mosins. It’s a gay rifle!”

Me: “Oh, that’s not true…” *I look at my buddy* “Do you have a Mosin, darling?”

My Buddy: *doesn’t miss a beat* “Of course not, baby.”

(He stops reloading the mag he has and stands very close to me with one arm around my shoulders.)

Next Lane: *packs up and leaves immediately*

(I am not gay, but my squad mate is!)

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