Horse traders like these spend more time looking than buying
I selected a 1963 Belgium Browning 12-gauge from the used gun rack and hefted the old humpback. "This is almost the shotgun I've been looking for," I told Wrong Willie.
He looked up from across the aisle and over the tops of his reading glasses. "I hate the tiny print on these boxes of shells."
The red inch-high letters screamed across the store. "I can read that from the parking lot."
"Not this part," Willie said, pointing a chipped index finger toward the shot sizes on top of the box. "Never mind. What were you saying?"
I hefted the abnormally heavy shotgun. I know what they should feel like, and the gun in my hands seemed unbalanced.
"Isn't that the shotgun you've been wanting for the past few years?" Willie asked.
I shouldered the automatic and aimed at a fluorescent light. "Close. I don't want a 3-inch magnum, but look, someone changed the barrel out to shoot steel shot. I want one as close to the original as possible."
Willie examined the tiny stamped letters on the barrel. "Yep, says so right there. Steel shot. And look, some moron used an etching pencil to put their license number on the wide of the breech."
Doc came over from the new shotgun section and peered over my shoulder. "Willie, how can you read those little, bitty letters on the barrel, but you need reading glasses for words big as a headline?"
Willie pretended not to hear him. "You know, when the War Department called me last year and asked me to look for an old Belgium Browning for your Christmas present, I didn't know how hard it would be to find one."
"She did what?" I asked, surprised, disappointed and pleased all at the same time.
"Yeah, she said you wanted one and knew I was going to a gun show, so she told me to look."
"She knows when you're going to gun shows?"
Doc examined a new Benelli. It was the reason we were in a gun shop. He wants one "just because."
"I found a great looking pre-1963," Willie continued. "But the guy wanted $800 for it. I told him it was too much and offered him $750, but he wouldn't take it."
"How much did she tell you to spend?" I asked.
"Around $800, but the guy was too high, and I told him so."
"You found me the perfect humpback 12 and then tried to negotiate the price?" I asked, shocked. "Why didn't you just pay it?"
"Because he wanted too much, and he made me mad. Said right off the bat that the price was solid, but I'd already checked around and knew what it should cost, so I wouldn't budge."
I replaced the shotgun and turned to Doc. "Did you hear that? He's so tight that he gets into a confrontation over my Christmas present. He should have just paid the money."
"I have the same faults myself," Doc said, pulling back the shotgun's bolt. "About 15 years ago I really wanted a .220 Swift and found one in a pawnshop, but the guy had it priced too high. I argued with him until I was blue in the face, but he wouldn't come down on it."
"Is that the one that looked brand new, right out of the box?" Willie asked.
"Yep. I offered him $750 for it, and he wanted $775. I held firm."
"You still don't have a .220 Swift," I said.
"You're right. I wouldn't give him the extra $25, and he wouldn't budge, so I showed him. I didn't buy it."
Willie shook his head, remembering the full story. "Yeah, but then Doc slept on it and went back the next day to get the rifle, only it was already sold and gone. You showed him, alright."
"Just like my Belgium," I said. "You could have bought it and I'd have a 12-gauge like Uncle's, but you're so hard-headed that you lost it for me for a lousy $50."
"Don't look at it that way," Willie said. "The guy was asking too much. You'll find one some day. Let's go. I'm hungry."
"You gonna buy that Benelli?" I asked Doc. "It looked like a good price."
"I don't want to pay that much. I'll find one a little cheaper, maybe while we're on that dove hunt down in Uvalde."
We left the gun shop and I looked back over my shoulder at the near-perfect shotgun. "I probably should have bought it."
"Naaah," Doc said. "We're better horse traders than that. We'll find you one for a reasonable price."
"After I'm too old to hunt," I said, and we left to go hunting later in the week, without a Belgium Browning or Doc's Benelli. We're better hagglers than to be taken by high prices.
Reavis Wortham's e-mail address is r.wortham@tx.rr.com.
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