Right to Bear Arms (shopping)

Dr. Marcus stepped into his friendly neighborhood firearms store. He was developing an interest in hunting... and in Hunting, indeed. He made sure to bring his firearms license with him, and multiple pieces of identification. After all, a man such as him preferred to do things legally.

Making his way up to the counter, Ryan smiled and looked for a sales associate to help him find and purchase the right long rifle for his hunting needs.
Irina

The salesman was just locking up a case as Ryan walked into his store, and the bell above the door jingled pleasantly. The man turned around, and gave the doctor a quick but pleasant nod.

"How can I help you today?" he asked generically, as he sized up his customer. It had been a quiet day so far, and so Dr. Marcus had his full and undivided attention.

Ryan smiled at the man and said, "Hey, nice to meet you. I'm Ryan Marcus," as he offered him a handshake. He had no problem letting the guy know who he was; after all, no doubt he'd be seeing Ryan's papers. "I'm looking to do some hunting in the summer and fall here, and was hoping you might be able to help me to buy and license a nice, solid rifle."

Looking around, he asked, "Was doing some research, and thought I might like to see if a Remington Model 700 was available." He figured it would. The Model 700 was an iconic piece of American hunting tech. It had plenty of stopping power, which he liked, and a nice long range... and best of all, since it was such a famous hunting gun, his purchase of it would hardly be suspicious to anybody even if they were to look. "Unless you've got any collectors edition stuff for sale?"

Couldn't hurt to ask.

The server, an older gentleman in his sixties who looked like hunting was definitely his idea of the good life, returned Ryan's handshake with a firm grip. It wasn't a dick-measuring sort of handshake - the guy looked like he could box a bear, but the friendly sort of shake wherein a back clap was also imminent.

Which it was, a few seconds later.

He smiled broadly. "You actually in the market to go hunting, or are you impressing your girlfriend?"

As he spoke, he moved to the other side of the store to another lock-up.

Dr. Marcus chuckled at the handclap and the comment. "My girlfriend prefers handguns," he joked. "But me, I'm interested in a really nice rifle for big game."

A heavy set of keys are pulled from a black lanyard at the man's hip, and he uses a couple of separate keys to open up an intricate looking lock. "I'll take her over to the counter, let you get a good look."

He pulled out the M-700 and gestured for Doc Marcus to follow him back to the cash register. The clerk patted it almost affectionately. "What I choose for varmint hunting; although I head across state for that. Got a sweet place set up, cabin in the woods, leave the wife at home," he laughed, shaking his head.

"What sort of game you looking for?"

Dr. Marcus followed him, looking quite interested in the M-700. He whistled. "Very nice!" he said as he looked over the rifle appreciatively. "And that's always fun. I was thinking I'd head up to Washington State this summer and do some deer hunting." He grinned as he said it. "I'm new to it, I'll admit, but I have some buddies who like to hunt."

True.

"May I?" He asked, indicating the rifle, wanting to hoist it. "You able to add a telescopic sight on this? Deer spook." While scopes with nightvision and thermal were sadly illegal, a regular telescoping sight on a hunting gun was not. Which is why hunters used them on deer; to stop them from spooking from humans being too close.

The clerk gave a quick nod. "Yes, sir, that you can," he responded. He watched Doc Marcus handling his M-700 with a careful, scrutinising gaze. He didn't sell guns to idiots, and at least so far in the conversation, his customer was not triggering his "dumb-ass radar."

"Washington States good for hunting, too. Used to go up there when my son was high as my hip. I take it this isn't your first?"

The clerk had seen people coming into his store, trying to act like hot shots, armed with only a little Wikipedia article on guns and not much else.

Dr. Marcus smiled as he looked over the rather nice rifle. "My first weapon? No." He shook his head, producing his identification, concealed carry licence and registration papers for his rather nice H&K and his .40. Such was the normal routine when one bought a weapon. "I'm licensed and possess two handguns."

The clerk looked over the paperwork that Doc Marcus provided, his keen eyes scanning every single line and notation. He peered up at the other man a few seconds later, as he studied the weapon.

"You looking to buy it, then?" he asked in a friendly tone. Clearly the guy did not hard sell.