Okay, I’m going to open with a bit of an explainer just in case you’re one of the five or six people in the USA who has not only never watched a modicum of any show or movie in the “Star Trek” franchise, but also has somehow dodged absorbing a bit of its in-universe mythos via cultural osmosis.
Basically, in the “Star Trek” universe, the main cast goes gallivanting about the universe, boldly going and discovering strange new worlds but, because Kirk and Spock, et al., work for the Starfleet of the Universal Federation of Planets, they have certain rules by which they must abide.
Chief among those is the Starfleet General Order 1, better known as the “Prime Directive,” which states that it is forbidden to have contact with civilizations that have not yet developed star travel of their own, lest the sudden knowledge that there are aliens out there with phasers and photon torpedoes, gallivanting around the universe at faster-than-light speeds, warp that civilization’s natural development.
Of course, what makes the various starship captains of the franchise—Kirk, Picard, Janeway, et al.,—so cool and interesting is that they know when to obey the Prime Directive, and when it’s necessary to break it.
Despite having worked in and around the retail gun biz for decades, whenever I’m in another city or town, I love dropping in to gun stores to check out the local scene, to see what kind of cool stuff might be in the used case—and also just out of professional curiosity. You know, see how other people do things and see if there are any neat practices or ideas I can steal to copy back home. (Also, if it looks like the handguns have just been lobbed into the display case using a shovel, I’m likely standing there feeling just a bit judgy on the inside.)
However, I do have my own self-imposed, gun-store Prime Directive, and I think it’s one worth considering by other firearm enthusiasts and hobbyists, whether they’re currently in the business or not: If I’m in a gun store, whether across town or across the country, if I don’t work there, then getting directly involved with the sales process at the counter, whether with the customers or the sales clerks, ain’t my job.
For starters, there’s only one thing a gun store salesperson hates more than a bystander butting into a conversation with a customer to tell tall tales about their M16 in Vietnam, and that is having a bystander interrupt them when they’re telling a customer their own tall tales about their M16 in Vietnam.
I’m not the fact police. If someone wants to repeat hoary rumors about 1911s knocking a man off their feet or Glocks running a million jillion rounds without any parts breakage after being run over by a tank, I’m not there to get all “WELL ACKSHYUALLY” at them, I’m there to buy my bottle of Break-Free CLP or my brick of .22 LR and go on my merry way.
In fact, if I’m the only customer in the place and just idly chit-chatting with the help, there’s no reason to give them some “Hey, I’m in the gun business, too” secret handshake. They’ve got stuff they could be doing and there’s no need to ramble on about that. About the only time I ever bring it up is if I see them doing some procedure that I think is cool or useful and want to copy.
An example of that would be the time I was in a shop and saw that they had a cover sheet they attached to a form 4473 that had a checklist on it with a space for the employee’s initials beside each step of the sales procedure and a space for a coworker to co-sign that they’d also confirmed all the steps had been taken care of. I did ask if I could look at that worksheet because, as a retailer, I recognized it as a clever way of making double sure that you, er, avoid Imperial entanglements, if I may mix my sci-fi metaphors, during your next BATFE audit.
But, that’s really on the professional side of things.
Breaking the Prime Directive in my role as a customer is a different kettle of fish. At Indy Arms Company, my local gun shop (where I once worked), I’m known as something of a go-to person for answering Smith & Wesson revolver questions, but I wait until I’m asked. It’s not a thing where I want to go and insert myself.
If I’m in some other gun store? Unless the clerk is visibly looking around to see if anyone else has the answer to the question, then butting in isn’t my job.
One time I will interact with customers is if they’re obviously new and lost. If you’ve spent any time in gun stores, you know the look and, if you were not raised around guns, you can probably remember the feeling.
The surroundings were unfamiliar, the clerks were all busy talking to other people in a strange jargon of numbers and acronyms and you didn’t even really know where to start your line of questioning. It’s intimidating! I know women who’ve been in that situation and actually turned around and left; it took a few visits before they managed to work up the courage to get someone’s attention and ask for specific advice and info.
If I see that person standing there, I will break my Prime Directive and introduce myself. I’ll smile, be friendly, ask questions and answer questions until I can hand them off to one of the staff when they get freed up. I’ll do that even if it takes a little more time out of my day than I’d planned on spending at the gun shop. It’s always time well spent.
After all, I may not work at that store, but I am a member of the firearms-owning community of Second Amendment supporters and, as a member of that community, I know we only have one chance to make a good first impression.
