My Most Rewarding Sale
The year must have been 1981, as we were still living in the UK, and Pat and I hadn't immigrated to Canada until 1982. We were in the town of Bisley attending our last "Gun Show", and I was selling everything. All of my personal guns were up for grabs, apart from a small select handful of rifles that I wished not to part with. My first pistol rig was available for sale, a WWII British webbing belt with a pistol ammo pouch. She held a box of 32 rds of 9mm 2Z perfectly, attached to that was a web holster modified to hold my Browning Hi Power and a lastly a custom leather mag pouch, I think I had the modest price of 5 GBP on it.
The show was slow as many pistol matches were running at the time taking away from potential patrons. I watched a young boy maybe 7 or 8 years old wandering round the marquee, his eyes as big as saucers as he stared at all these guns. He kept coming back to my table as we had several handguns and cheaper miscellaneous lots of gear and assorted goodies. He went back to his Dad and obviously asked for some pocket money, his Dad looked at me from across the marquee, "This was going to be interesting....".
I watched the boy come trotting back to our tables. He picked up a surplus army pack as I told him the price, he was very clearly disappointed as obviously it was out of his price range. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his Dad keeping an eye on the proceedings taking place. This performance was repeated over and over as the lad kept picking up an item, dummy rds, bayonets etc as he was getting desperate. I could see he had some coins clutched in his hand tightly. I asked him to show me his hand, "Dam, only two shillings and sixpence." I thought, which was worth a bit over a dollar at that time. What the hell, I told myself that the next item he picked up, no matter the value I would take his two shillings and sixpence.
To my horror the next item he picked up was my cherished Browning rig. He looked up at me and his eyes told me he already knew the answer, but this was an act of desperation. I had given my word - be it unspoken, I told him two shillings and sixpence. He couldn't believe it, the deal was done and clutching his purchase he dashed off to his Dad! It was comical as he was running away he kept turning to look back at me, he couldn't make a straight line! I noticed his Dad was also observing his erratic course as well. Once back with his Dad he proudly showed off his new purchase.
Something was wrong, his Dad took the Browning rig in one hand and his son in the other and came striding across to me. "Did you sell this to my son?" Yes I replied. "What was the price?" Two shillings and sixpence I replied. He gave me a look of disbelief, I smiled, no everything was good I said. He gave the Browning rig to his son, wished me a good day and walked away with his son holding his hand.
His son was walking sidewise out of the marquee, with one hand he was clutching his new purchase, the other hand held firmly in his fathers grip. His face was one huge smile and his eyes didn't leave mine until he was out of the marquee and 'round the corner.
That was the best sale I have ever made, I hope that little lad became a proud gun owner.
Keep your powder dry,
Mr Wolverine
The year must have been 1981, as we were still living in the UK, and Pat and I hadn't immigrated to Canada until 1982. We were in the town of Bisley attending our last "Gun Show", and I was selling everything. All of my personal guns were up for grabs, apart from a small select handful of rifles that I wished not to part with. My first pistol rig was available for sale, a WWII British webbing belt with a pistol ammo pouch. She held a box of 32 rds of 9mm 2Z perfectly, attached to that was a web holster modified to hold my Browning Hi Power and a lastly a custom leather mag pouch, I think I had the modest price of 5 GBP on it.
The show was slow as many pistol matches were running at the time taking away from potential patrons. I watched a young boy maybe 7 or 8 years old wandering round the marquee, his eyes as big as saucers as he stared at all these guns. He kept coming back to my table as we had several handguns and cheaper miscellaneous lots of gear and assorted goodies. He went back to his Dad and obviously asked for some pocket money, his Dad looked at me from across the marquee, "This was going to be interesting....".
I watched the boy come trotting back to our tables. He picked up a surplus army pack as I told him the price, he was very clearly disappointed as obviously it was out of his price range. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his Dad keeping an eye on the proceedings taking place. This performance was repeated over and over as the lad kept picking up an item, dummy rds, bayonets etc as he was getting desperate. I could see he had some coins clutched in his hand tightly. I asked him to show me his hand, "Dam, only two shillings and sixpence." I thought, which was worth a bit over a dollar at that time. What the hell, I told myself that the next item he picked up, no matter the value I would take his two shillings and sixpence.
To my horror the next item he picked up was my cherished Browning rig. He looked up at me and his eyes told me he already knew the answer, but this was an act of desperation. I had given my word - be it unspoken, I told him two shillings and sixpence. He couldn't believe it, the deal was done and clutching his purchase he dashed off to his Dad! It was comical as he was running away he kept turning to look back at me, he couldn't make a straight line! I noticed his Dad was also observing his erratic course as well. Once back with his Dad he proudly showed off his new purchase.
Something was wrong, his Dad took the Browning rig in one hand and his son in the other and came striding across to me. "Did you sell this to my son?" Yes I replied. "What was the price?" Two shillings and sixpence I replied. He gave me a look of disbelief, I smiled, no everything was good I said. He gave the Browning rig to his son, wished me a good day and walked away with his son holding his hand.
His son was walking sidewise out of the marquee, with one hand he was clutching his new purchase, the other hand held firmly in his fathers grip. His face was one huge smile and his eyes didn't leave mine until he was out of the marquee and 'round the corner.
That was the best sale I have ever made, I hope that little lad became a proud gun owner.
Keep your powder dry,
Mr Wolverine
Thank You!
