Originally published at Notes From The Bunker. You can comment here or there.

:::phone rings:::

Me: [Business name]!
Caller: Is this Trader Brothers?
Me: No, it’s [Business name]…that’s why we answer the phone with “[business name]!”
Caller: Oh. Well, I musta got the wrong number…..

“Well, it looks like your looking for some gun stuff…what’d ya need?”

“I’ve got an Uzi I was looking to sell. I’m 75 years old and it’s just too damn heavy to shoot.”

“Really? You know, I just happen to be in the market for one….”

Two hours later he comes into the shop. It’s a genuine Uzi from Action Arms, not one of the Vector clones or the (shudder) Centrury Chinese guns (derisively called ‘choosies’). Just the gun and one rusty magazine. Barrel nut is missing. A quick look online shows replacements are $25. We talk and I tell him what I can offer.

“Look, the best I can offer you is [X]. It’s worth more than that, no doubt. You can take it to a gun show and I’m sure you’ll find some takers but theyre probably looking for it for resale so theyre going to need to get it at a price that leaves them some room to move. But you might find someone who wants it for themselves and they’d give you more than [X]. I’m ready to give you $X, right now, cash money. You dont want to, thats perfectly fine too. No hard feelings, we can still be friends.”

“Mmm…I bet you could do [x+50]…”

“You know, I appreciate that, I really do. I wish I could. But I’m serious…[X] is what I’ve got right here, right now in my pocket. I really can’t go [x+50]. I still have to pay my rent and then explain to my wife why I’m walking in the door with an Uzi. I’ve got [x] right here, so it’s up to you.”

And, really, if he didn’t want to take [X] I would have been okay with it. True, these tings haven’t been brought into the country since ’86, but they do turn up with fair frequency. But, at the same time, I’d really like to cross “compact, fits-in-backpack, military-rugged 9mm carbine” off my list of things to buy so I can get it done and move on with my life.

So, when it was all said and done, he sold me the gun for what I offered and promised to come back sometime if he needed some gun stuff. In the meantime, I dragged what I call my “Uzi Hope Chest” out of the basement. Don’t look at me like that. I figured that someday I’d have another one of these things so I’ve been acquiring mags and accessories.

So, anyway, that how a wrong number wound up putting an Uzi in my gun rack.