I swear I'm done with Class 3 (Machine gun) transfers

 Two incoming guns and a few suppressors I need notwithstanding, I seem to have nothing but trouble when it comes to dealing with sellers and buyers lately and I'm done. From being sold an M60 with a bad barrel that promptly exploded on me despite coming from a seller known as a collector and expert on M60's to the Thompson gun that I bought from a dealer who "guaranteed" it but then insisted I only send it to his own gunsmith who just made it worse three times in a row, now I've got the buyer of that same Thompson getting weird with me now that the Form 4 has been approved for my transfer to his dealer. 

It was supposed to be a 50/50 deal, where he paid half the cost up front, with the other half payable when the Form 4 was approved. But now that it's approved, he's going nuts trying to cajole me into shipping the gun to his dealer before his payment to me arrives, saying that "it'll be all right if they pass in the mail" and that I can "trust" him. He's now of course offended and angry that I'm insisting on waiting on payment, which he apparently sent through regular US Mail instead of overnighting it like someone really in a hurry would do or even sending it priority. He's even rolling out the "I was planning on buying more guns from you..." incentive, with the implication that he'll buy more guns but only if I ship this one before getting paid for it. It all adds up to a big pile of "fuck that guy" and I'm trying to figure out what to do it he doesn't come across with the full amount now that the Form 4 has been approved. The gun is boxed and ready to go but it's not moving until payment arrives and clears and somehow this is a massive breach of the "friendship" that he and I never even had and I'm the bad guy.

Screw this. The gun's not budging and I'm done with the Class 3 game.

And yes, two more guns are inbound, one from a dealer who already "forgot" to submit the ATF paperwork after I paid for it two months ago, but these will be keepers and I don't plan to sell them. 

The MG community used to be small and exclusive and you could reasonably trust people to honestly and efficiently buy and sell guns that worked, but apparently that's a thing of the past. Now it's hustlers or dealers who don't care moving junk around. Times have changed and not for the better.

So I'm driving into work this morning...

and I'm pissed, because I got a late start. Now I made most of the lost time up through "creative driving", but then I wound up hitting the drive-through coffee spot half a second behind some jerkwater in a minivan who placed an order and then pulled up to the pick-up window and just sat there, waiting, for SIX MINUTES! Now I and others behind me are also forced to wait due to the high curbs that prevent us from just chucking our orders and driving away, so all I can do is curse and beam hate-waves at this guy for SIX MINUTES while I wait for a FREAKING CUP OF COFFEE, all because this ass-monkey ordered a bag of breakfast sandwiches and INSISTED that they be made fresh, according the trained food-hander-outer at the window.

Now I'm pissed at this guy for being such a thoughtless jackass when he could have just as easily parked and gone inside to wait on this order, but I'm also cheesed at the lazy slobs at the drive-thru who couldn't be bothered to tell this chowderhead to pull ahead fifteen feet and let the rest of us get our simple orders and be gone. I mean, God forbid that "Double-wide Bertha" at the window actually have to walk this guy's sack of sandwiches out to him...far better that me and everyone else in line line sit and cool our heels, because hey--we're only on the way to our jobs, right? So what if we're late?

And yeah, when I got to work, I looked up the drive-thru and hit both their website and their corporate site with a complaint only slightly less strong than this one. Bad customer service exists because too many people are willing to take it. And tomorrow, I'll get my coffee at the gas station across the street.

Breath.

Another breath.

Better now.

Anyway, just a bit later, I'm getting texted at 5AM by my mother, who is just getting to bed after a night spend clubbing reading Old NFO's first book "The Grey Man--Vignettes", which I sent her on Kindle yesterday. (It's on special this week, so check it out.) She apparently could not put it down and stayed up all night reading it. She said that she hasn't read a book that good in a long time and begged for anything else that he writes.

Well, coincidentally, he did write another one, and it's just now out: The Grey Man--Payback. And her new Kindle copy is enroute to her as I type this. And my hard-copy version is on it's way here to complement my copy of the first book (which I seem to have misplaced...)

Anyway...Buy this book.

If you bring your copies to next month's blogshoot in eastern West Virginia, I suspect that the author will sign them.

Customer Service (Or, "Why I love Surefire.")

A couple of years ago, I bought one of Surefire's bottom-line G2 Nitrolon flashlights. This is the relatively cheap-o plastic version, not one of their nicer aluminum models. It was bright enough, but I decided that I didn't really care for the "twist-on/twist-off" switch on the bottom and the unshielded activation button that was forever turning itself on in my pocket or gear bag and running the batteries down. I debated just selling it off, but then somehow, for some reason, I had the bulb assembly out and I lost the lens and the o-ring that held the lens in the bezel. Well, that settled that; the light was now junk, and into the junk drawer it went.

Fast forward a couple of years, minus a couple of weeks. I just recently stumbled across the remains of this light again. I also realized that a light like this could actually be handy for emergency use if stored properly in a "go-bag" such as I was putting together at the time. But alas, it was still missing a lens. But it was a Surefire product, and I know from past experience that they tend to stand behind their stuff, so I called them up and explained that I had this light of theirs that was missing the lens and o-ring. I honestly wouldn't have minded paying a few bucks for a new lens, since I'm the negligent party who lost the old one, but their rep just asked me one question: "What color is the body of your light?" When I told him that it was black, he checked my address against their records and told me that a new lens assembly would be on it's way to me the next day, free of charge. And sure enough, it showed up a coupe of days later. Now that light is snugged away in an emergency bag--batteries separate--and I'm once again pleased with the level of service and support that I got from Surefire. When you buy their expensive stuff, you kind of expect them to take care of you if something goes wrong, but it says a lot about them that they give the same level of care and service to customers who just buy their low-end stuff.

Go, Surefire!

A nice day at the range

So I got the new cylinder for my Uberti SAA over the week-end, and as I was anxious to shoot it, first thing this morning I called up Taylor's & Co., of Winchester, Virginia to see if Tom, their gunsmith could fit it today. And he was more then amenable so I grabbed the pistol and six loose factory cartridges off my desk, snagged some handloaded test ammo from my shop, and drove right down.

For twenty bucks, Tom installed it and made sure that it was timed right, and he did it while I waited, which was convenient for me and good business practice for them because I spent the time looking at all of the other wonderful Old West guns and gear in their showroom. The company actually does most of it's business through dealers nationwide, but they obligingly took care of me in their office because I'm local. That sort of customer service is worth a lot these days.

So I took the pistol right to the range and fired off a batch of 255 grain lead semi-wadcutter rounds that I put together using 9 grains of Unique. It hits about 4" high at 15 yards but it groups well. I could probably stand to drop down to 8.5 or eve 8 grains of the Unique so as not to beat the tar out of this nice pistol, as 8 grains will still push that big, heavy chunk of lead at about 825 feet per second, or approximately .45 ACP velocity. 9 grains is supposed to give me 900fps, +/- a bit.

A little shooting therapy was just what I needed today. I'm happy.

Customer Service..sigh

So this morning, I had to make one of those dreaded calls to that black hole of Calcutta which is known today as Comcast Customer Service. It was just a minor modem problem, but it was on their end and I needed them to reset it.

Naturally, as soon as I get past the 26 levels of "If you are calling about your phone service, press 1. If you are calling about your high-speed (ha!) internet, press 2.." followed by thirteen more levels of "Press 1 to speak to someone that you don't need to talk to, press two to talk to another person that you don't need to talk to.." I finally get connected to a human being...a human being whom I suspect is far, far away.

"Hallo," says the voice in an accent that resembles that of Apu from The Simpsons. "My name is Bob. How may I be of help to you today?"

By now, I'm fed up and not game for being patronized, especially by some guy in a call center somewhere in India. "Yeah, whatever. Let's be real for a minute, ok? What's your real name?"
"Uh...my name is Bob," he repeats. "May I now have your name please?"

"Fine," I say, sighing. "You can call me Pradeep. Now can we get this computer back on line?"

If nothing else, I can now check off "Make some guy in India laugh" on my list of things to do today.

And two minutes later, my system was reset, courtesy of my new friend, Raj.

So how's your day going?

Michigan gun stores are pissing me off!

So a couple of months ago, I put a pistol up for sale on Gunbroker. It sat there forever but finally someone bought it. The buyer promptly sent me the money and the FFL of a dealer he wanted it shipped to, Michi-GUN in St. Clair Shores, Michigan. I sent the gun off, thinking that we were all set.

A week later, the gun was back, returned by UPS and marked "refused". A call to Michi-GUN was answered by a woman who told me that they'd sent it back because I, the sender, was not an FFL dealer and "it's the law that we cannot accept guns from anyone who is not an FFL dealer."

Now this is NOT the law. BATFE requires that firearms sold across state lines be received by a holder of a federal firearms license, or FFL. It does NOT have to be shipped by one. But some dealers, in a collaborative effort to cut down on internet sales and transfers of firearms (they'd rather you buy the gun from their store inventory and pay their mark-up), refuse to accept guns sold by private sellers.

Now this is their right as a business and I don't begrudge them that, but when, instead of saying as much and standing by their policy, they LIE and say "the law says...", well that pisses me off. It's insulting being lied to because they obviously think that we're all too stupid or uninformed to know any better. It also speaks volumes about their business ethics. I told the woman as much, and when I asked her for her name, she hung up on me.

Giving it a bit, I called back. This time, a man answered. I asked for the name of the woman who worked there, and he jumped right in and started with: "look, if you're calling about that gun we sent back, we're not allowed to accept guns from anyone who is not a licensed dealer." When I asked him who didn't allow him to, he, like the woman, claimed that it was "the law". I again explained that there was and is no such law and this time he said that it was their policy not to accept guns from individuals because they don't know if the seller is a felon or under-age.

"Again," I explained. "The law doesn't say who you can or cannot buy from. It specifies who you can and cannot sell TO. and that's why you do the NICS check."

"Well we still don't accept guns from non FFL dealers," he responded.

"Fine," I said. "But why lie to me about it and say that it's the law? And by the way, what's your name?"

CLICK! He hung up on me. Without giving his name. Coward.


So I spoke with the buyer of my gun and he gave me the FFL of a second dealer, this one being Peter's Indoor Range and Gun Shop in Roseville. I shipped the gun off again and figured that we were finally done.

I got home today just as Mike, the UPS guy was coming down my driveway. He had a box. The box was this pistol, back again, once more marked "refused".

I called this shop up and was told the same damned thing: "The law doesn't let us accept guns from non-FFL dealers."

I told him that it was not the law, and he came back and asked me how I knew, since I wasn't a dealer. "In the first place," I replied, "You don't have to be a gun dealer to know the law. In the second place, I've been buying and selling guns for years and I know how it works."

"Well it's the law in Michigan," he replied, still trying to win the argument despite a lack of facts in his hand. "You wouldn't know that because you're not a Michigan resident."

"I know that I don't appreciate being lied to," I told him. "If you lie to me about something like this, what else are you willing to lie to me about?"

He didn't respond, but just sat there, dead silence on the phone.

"To hell with it," I told him. "I'm blogging this." Then I hung up on him and wrote this post.

Michigan shooters and gun shoppers, deal with Michi-GUN and Peter's Indoor Range at your peril. If they lie that easily to me over the phone, I doubt that they'll be any less reluctant to lie to you about anything else in person. You may be ok with that but as far as I'm concerned, character counts and I don't do business with liars and cheats. Michi-GUN and Peter's Indoor Range, both of whose staff have shown a willingness to lie, are off my list on subsequent Michigan trips.

And the damned pistol that I've shipped off twice now is still here. Grrrr...

Place NOT to do business locally: Creamer's Fast Lube

Sorry for the lack of text to go with this last night. The title was still the beginning of a draft rant and somehow got published. I blame Murphy. I'd also cooled off by this morning and likely would not have posted on this, but now I have to explain...

I took my vehicle to Creamer's Fast Lube on Flowing Springs Road in Charles Town, WV for an oil change yesterday. I'd just had the entire front clip of my SUV replaced and repainted following a collision with a deer some months back, and when these jackwagons--to include the manager of the place--had a problem getting the hood to release, before coming to tell me and ask for my help, they used a screwdriver or similar tool to try to PRY it open, leaving some distinct marks on the new paint and into the fiberglass. And they didn't even bother to tell me that they'd done this but just told me it was all done and took my money. The next place I stopped, as I was walking around thew front of the vehicle, I saw the damage. I took it straight to Creamers' parent shop in town and complained to the manager there, and now I'm waiting to see what they plan to do about it after he talks to the owner.

But regardless of whether or not they fix it, is that even an appropriate way to treat someone else's vehicle? Putting prying tools on someone's paint and bodywork just because you're in too big of a hurry to try and troubleshoot a stuck hood latch? I mean, they couldn't even be bothered to try and put one of those rubber mats down on the bodywork first. Nope--Mongo just started honking on it with whatever tool was handy and scraped up my new paint job. Oh well. Slam the hood shut and hope the customer doesn't see it.

So if you're in the Charles Town, WV area and you're looking for a quick oil change, if you like your car or truck, take it somewhere else.

Back on-line!

So Friday, we got this snow...heavy, wet snow, about six inches worth on my deck. Neat to see--and Al Gore and all of his "Global warming" disciples can kiss my ass--but it knocked out the power and the internet here at the Lair.

Now the power was restored Saturday night, so that was no real problem. Murphy and I just spent the intervening time sitting in front of the fireplace, me linking ammunition or reading a book and him growling at the popping logs. The house was lit by Coleman lanterns which are kept on hand for just such an event, and food was cooked and tea was brewed on a matching Coleman stove. Even the toilets remained functional courtesy of the water in the outside rain barrel. In short, we had everything but a hot shower, microwave popcorn and the internet, so life was good for this guy and his dog.

Well the power came back, but not the internet. Why? Because I have Comcast and they suck. But understanding the nature of the problem, I gave them some slack...right up until I got the automated call last night telling me that service to the area had been restored and discovered that mine was still out.

So I called them, and after sitting on hold for twenty minutes and being cycled through several layers of "you'can't-bypass-this" voicemail lectures and prompts, I eventually spoke to an airhead named Sherice who insisted on patronizing me and treating me as if I was her best friend in the world AND six years old. Sherice sympathized with me and pretended that she really, really cared that I'd been off-line for four days already, with no way to pay bills, check e-mail, send out resumes, buy gun stuff or read blogs. She tried--and failed--to reset my connection from their end. Then she cheerfully explained that a technician would have to come here and set me up for a service call on Thursday.

At this point, I came a bit unglued and told her politely but firmly that Thursday was not acceptable to me and that I expected it to be restored immediately by whatever means were required on their end. Sherice kept telling me oh, so cheerfully, that she could not get anyone out here any sooner. I stopped her after about the third repeat of this claim and told her that she was saying "can't" when what she really meant was "won't". This one brought her up short and probably took her right off of that little page of answers to things that customers say that I suspect that she was reciting from. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"You CAN send someone here tomorrow," I explained. "You just won't. There is a difference."

She again denied that she could send anyone tomorrow, and I stopped her again. "Do you have technicians working tomorrow? There's actually people there, right? No holiday or labor strike, right? Then you actually could send one over here tomorrow if you chose to. So the word is 'won't'."

She again told me that she couldn't send anyone.

I then suggested that if the president of Comcast's home internet went out, someone would be sent right over to his house, probably in the middle of the night. He probably doesn't even pay for his internet but I pay for mine, so have someone over here in the morning or I will have a competitor's truck over here installing their equipment and your guy can just pick up the router when he shows up on Thursday.

This also did not work. But it got Sherice onto another track. "I'm really sorry for your inconvenience..." she started. This time I just cut her off cold. "It's not an inconvenience, Sherice. It's a significant disruption of my affairs, but it's also a failure on your part to provide a service that we contracted for and which you're being paid to provide. This is not my problem, it's yours, and you need to fix it. Now."

“Oh, you'll get a credit for the time that you weren't able to connect,” she said, still sounding cheerful.

"I don't want a credit. I want the service that I'm paying for. You need to deliver that service."

"Well I'm sorry for the inconvenience..." she said again. She was obviously reading from her script again. The one that probably says "Always sound cheerful" at the top of each page.

I finally lost patience with Sherice. "May I speak to a grown-up now, please?"

"I'm sorry. There's none here right now," she said (cheerfully).

"Yeah, no shit," I said, hanging up the phone.

Today I called back. This time, after the same voice mail jerk-around, I was connected to Kiara. Kiara was similarly patronizing and artificially cheerful, but before I unloaded on her, I sat down and cooperated as she ran the same diagnostics and tests from her end that Sherice had allegedly run last night. This time, the system reset and everything magically began to work again. I'm back on-line. Finally.

Sherice, if you should ever read this, please know that you're a fucking idiot.


So...how was YOUR week-end?

PS--Thanks to Comcast, I missed a Colt Argentine Model 1927 .45 that went at auction last night for a ridiculously low $476.00. I'd have gone higher but I was knocked out of the last day's bidding. Thanks, Comcast, you assholes!

More people who need to be kicked

Self-important women with a whole cart full of groceries who jump into the "11 items or less" express item line ahead of the guy carrying ONE ITEM...and the cashier that lets her.

And in this case, I'm talking about a red-haired overweight woman at Food Lion who saw me approaching with my one item and actually picked up speed to beat me into the only express lane with her cart. I'm also talking about the young male cashier who just looked at me as she began putting her items on the belt and put his hands up as if to say "what can I do?"

I'll tell you what you can do, Casper Milquetoaste. You can tell her to take her fat ass over to one of the regular lanes and stand in line like everyone else...and you might even suggest that she put the Haagen-Das back in the freezer because she sure doesn't need it!

Suffice it to say, my one item was deposited on the Customer Service desk and the employee there was told that I'd be back when they actually got serious about customer service.

Gunnies--avoid this dealer.

Customer service.

Some companies have it, and others…not so much.

The Dealer Showroom out of Klamath, Oregon, falls into the latter category. This is a small internet-based company that seems to offer for sale small bits of old ammo and miscellaneous military surplus junk. I recently came across this company while looking for some .577-450 cartridges for my new Martini Henry rifle. Their internet website offered some of the ammunition at what I thought was a bearable price (There’s no such thing as “cheap” .577-450 these days) so I bought two boxes for evaluation, planning to buy more if I liked the ammunition. The website also invoiced me a shipping rate of $9.00 for the two boxes, which, based on the size of the two boxes, was reasonable. Shortly after I placed the order, I received an e-mail notification on August 15th telling me that my order had been shipped, and it included an invoice showing the price and the $9.00 shipping charge. So far, so good.

But then the ammunition did not arrive. It didn’t arrive the next week, or the week after that. Efforts to reach the Dealer Showroom via their listed phone number were unsuccessful because they apparently don’t answer their phone during normal business hours and they apparently don’t have an answering machine, either. Three weeks later, I e-mailed asking about my order, asking for information about it’s ship date or a refund if it had not been shipped yet. Two days went by without a reply, so I e-mailed again. I also found an e-mail for the company owner, a man calling himself John Bush, and I cc’d him on the second e-mail.

Another day went by and I contacted my bank to put a stop payment and/or charge-back on the order that I figured was not ever coming. But the bank could not find any charges on my account for the sum total of the ammunition and the quoted shipping rate so I wasn’t able to complete that charge-back. Before I could investigate further however, I received an e-mail from Bush asking me if my order was received ok. I told him that it had not been received and he replied by sending me a tracking number who showed the ammo en-route, with a departure date from his place a day AFTER my first unanswered e-mail query. Checking my bank statement again, I saw a charge from his company for $4.00 more than the quoted price, which explained why my bank could not find it when they searched by the transaction amount. I wrote Bush back, letting him know that I was unhappy with the delay and asking him to explain both that and the reason for the apparent overcharge. He responded, ignoring my question about the delay and stating that his website stated on another page that all ammunition would ship at a higher price than that quoted in the ads. Well as I found his ad via a Google link that took me right to that page, I never saw that line nor was it made clear by the ordering page information. In fact, his own system invoiced me $9.00 for shipping. I told him that I was not happy with this or any other aspect of the transaction but his only response was to tell me to just send the order back for a refund if I didn’t want it. Apparently he would rather eat the UPS fee entirely when the shipment gets returned than just do the right thing and offer even a token apology and a charge back the $4.00 in dispute.

Well screw that. I’ll keep it, only because I don’t trust John Bush or his company (assuming that he even actually has any employees and is not just some guy operating out of his garage) to refund my money after receiving the merchandise back. I told him that I’d be blogging this and letting other people know about his business methods but that didn’t seem to faze him one bit.

So here’s the tale in its entirety. John Bush, aka The Dealer Showroom, will quote and invoice you one price then bill your credit card another one. He’ll sit on your order for weeks after taking your money and ignore letters inquiring as to it’s whereabouts, and the only thing that seems to make him ship the product that you’ve paid for is a request for a refund. In short, my experience shows that he is unprofessional and not to be relied upon or trusted with your credit card information. And it’s telling that when given the opportunity to fix things with a simple apology and/or an explanation, he’s not even willing to take that small step in the name of keeping his customers satisfied and reassured. Now you may have had a better experience with him once, or you might in the future, but you cannot say that you have not been warned. As for me, I would not do business with him again if he was selling $5.00 gold pieces for $4.00.

How businesses go under--employing morons

Much as I tend to avoid fast food joints, a few days ago I had need to make a long drive, and short on time and hungry, I pulled into the drive-thru of a local Arby's to get a sandwich for the road. The time: just before 10:30AM.

As luck would have it, a slow car in front of me held my speed down for about half a mile as I approached the restaurant, so I was already a bit cheesed when a small pick-up truck with two people in it arrived from the other direction and turned into the driveway about two seconds before I did. If not for that slow car...

But still. Two people. No one else in line. This should be ok, right? They ordered something and pulled forward, and then I placed my order: one sandwich. Just one damned sandwich.

But not knowing what was coming, I pulled forward behind the pick-up truck and waited for them to get their food and move.

And I waited.

And I waited some more. Like, seriously, WTF?

By this time, two more vehicles had pulled in behind, placed orders, and joined the line. I'd waited through two whole songs and part of a third on the radio and still nothing was being handed out the window to the pick-up truck. Finally, I blew my horn to "suggest" to the idiots in the restaurant that they needed to do something. This was ridiculous.

Then one of the vehicles behind me in line pulled out and took off. It was followed by the other one. I also pulled around the little pick-up truck, only I went back around the front of the restaurant and stormed inside--I'd already lost ten minutes and I wanted my damned sandwich.

I walked in just in time to hear the one employee exclaim: "They've all left! What do we do with their orders?"
"Dump 'em," replied the other. and before I could even say a word, I watched the first employee grab up three ready-to-go bags of food and drop them into the trash can. Those were meals for four or five people that had been sitting there growing cold while the people who ordered them were waiting in line behind the pick-up truck, which was only now being handed their bag of food.

"What the HELL?" I exclaimed. I came in to get MY food after being stuck behind that truck for ten damned minutes! And you just threw it away!"

"Well it's not our fault," the employee by the window whined. "She ordered cin-a-buns and we had to make fresh ones and that take three minutes once we put them in the oven..."

"But you had us all waiting for TEN minutes," I said. "And you finally threw all of our food in the garbage and wasted it. Would it have killed you two to have that truck pull forward and just given the rest of us our orders?"

"Well we probably could have," said the other employee. "But we didn't think of that."

"Oh, we couldn't do that," the other one rushed to exclaim. "There are only two of us here."

"What did you order?" the first one asked. "I can make you another one real quick."

"Not even if it was free," I said. Like I want these two touching my food now. So I turned around and left, but not before spotting the store owner's number on the window and punching into my phone. I called him a bit later and he wasn't there, but I left a message explaining how the Butt Sisters had just cost him several sales and wasted a fair amount of food that he'd paid for. I never heard back from him but I hope that he boots those two, because it's sorry-assed, lazy employees like that, coupled with inadequate supervision, that can ruin a business and put a lot of other people out of work.

There used to be a time when employees were grateful to have jobs and went the extra mile for customer service. But apparently those days are gone. Question I have to ask is: "Why?" When did it become unfashionable or even permissible to blow your customers off when your whole paycheck is derived from serving said customers?

Lucky for me, the Duncan Donuts across the street was quick enough to make up a toasted bagel with bacon, egg and cheese, and it was cheaper than the Arby's sandwich, to boot. Next time I'm up that way and hungry, guess which one will be getting my business. And the owner of the Arby's franchise has only himself to blame for hiring those two vapid cows and letting them work without a manager present.

Customers and Customer Service

So tonight I went out to dinner, since a local place was having a special on wings and I wanted to try their wings. As I waited for my food, a woman at a nearby table began to angrily berate her waitress loudly enough that I could overhear the discussion. Her complaint was that the basket of fries that she'd ordered for her family was not big enough. She pointed out angrily that the menu claimed that it was a serving for four people, and she argued loudly that there were clearly not enough fries there for four people.

Thing is, there were only three people at the table: this obese woman, her obese teen daughter, and a five-year old who was well on his way to being obese. And here mom was, arguing that a basket of deep-fried potatoes intended for four adults did not constitute enough food for her and her two children.

So then the manager was summoned over. And I'm thinking that even though this is a totally stupid complaint of the type that has forever kept me out of customer-service-oriented employment due to my inability to refrain from speaking my mind when confronted by such people, the old tenets of customer service should still apply here: Make the customer happy. I mean, I grew up with an understanding of the concept that in business, "the customer is always right". (Archaic, I know...I'm old.) But this twenty-something "manager" appeared genuinely perplexed and stumped as to how to respond. She replied that it wasn't her fault that the menu put out by the corporate office said that the basket contained enough fries for four people, and then she stood there all cow-eyed staring at this woman who was going on and on and on about being ripped off.

And I'm over in my seat thinking "Geez, she's a fat pig but you're a manager with, like, authority. Offer her something else or just ask her what would make her happy. That's just a no-brainer, one would think.

But apparently such is not taught in manager school any more, because she just stood there looking like a deer in the headlights as this woman harangued her loudly in front of the whole restaurant. The manager didn't even try to placate or mollify the woman. Finally, the woman worked herself up into such a fit that she announced to her two fat kids that they were leaving and not paying for the fries. And sure enough, all three of them waddled away while the manager and the waitress just looked at each other in befuddlement.

Now to begin with, the fat woman was wrong to act that way, but managers are paid to manage things like this, and customer satisfaction being important (at least once upon a time), I was embarrassed and ashamed for the two employees who, between them, could not de-escalate this simple situation and make this pig and her two piglets happy. I mean, how hard is it to just give them more fries or offer a substitution?

Pathetic. Pathetic all around. When did it become acceptable to act like that in a public establishment, and when did managers stop working towards keeping even the most unreasonable customers happy? More importantly, what ever happened to basic civility and courtesy? Where did these things go and when did they leave?

Dishonorable Mention: Kams Taxi of Charles Town WV

So yesterday at about 1:30 PM, I stop off at the local 7-11 to get a paper and a cup of coffee. As I pull into the lot, I notice that the one handicapped parking spot is occupied, not by a car, but by a silver Toyota taxicab belonging to Kams Taxi , a local cab company. The driver is sitting in the cab and a passenger is in the back seat, and the car is completely obstructing the handicapped spot.

Now I don't lay claim to needing the spot. In fact, despite missing a leg, I refuse to use those spots as I can get around quite well even on a bad day. However I have not forgotten the day when I did need them, or the many actual disabled people that I've met during my own rehab who really do need those spots. As a result, I don't think too highly of selfish scumbags who cavalierly zip into those parking places just because it's convenient for them.

So I parked my vehicle and walked into the store, stopping to give a nasty look at the Kams driver--an older prune-faced white woman. I looked at her, then looked up at the Handicapped Parking Only sign that was right in front of her cab. Then I walked on, making sure that she was able to get a good look at my prosthetic leg, which wasn't hard as I was wearing cargo shorts. I said nothing to her, because quite frankly, some people just aren't worth talking to.

This should have been the end of it, but a minute later, as I'm standing in line in the store, the cab's female passenger came inside and loudly accosted me while I waited in line.
"The driver wants to know if you have a handicapped parking pass," she announced.
"What does that matter?" I asked. "If I do or if I don't, it still doesn't excuse her being in that spot."
She then started rambling non-stop about how they both looked at my car and didn't see a handicapped placard so I have no right to complain that they were in that spot. I merely pointed to my nice plastic leg, which is visible for all to see. She yelled: "Well I'm sorry that you're handicapped, but you deserve it for being such a nasty person. God bless you!" And with that very Christian demonstration of kindness, she stormed back out of the store and hopped into the waiting cab. The cab driver then jammed the car into reverse and bolted back without looking, very nearly slamming into another car that was approaching the handicapped spot. Both vehicles had to brake sharply to prevent the collision that the Kams driver nearly caused, but the cab driver didn't stick around to apologize--she just sped off.

Oh--and the woman in the car that the Kams cab nearly clobbered? A real handicapped woman who got out of her car with a walker. She wasn't amused, either.

You can't make drama like this up, folks.

So for rudely and inconsiderately taking up a handicapped parking spot, and for sending a passenger into a store to pick a fight over the driver's conduct, and for operating her vehicle without due care and nearly causing a totally preventable crash, I am awarding Kams Taxi Dishonorable Mention here...and I'm also forwarding a complaint to the county licensing commission and the Sheriff's Department.

And if you found this story because you were trying to look up the phone number to Kams Taxi, take my advice and get a ride from someone else. That Kams driver could easily get you killed, either by crashing or by picking fights with people that she doesn't know anything about.

Oh, and a bit of follow-up investigating suggests that the woman driving the cab was none other than Dottie, the actual owner of that two-cab company. Not impressive. Not impressive at all.

And to be fair, I delayed a bit before posting this to give Dottie or someone else at Kams a chance to respond to my private complaint letter, but as it appears that a response isn't going to be coming any time soon...

Back in town

Posting has been sparse lately because I've been out of town. Family business took me away for a bit, but Lagniappe and I are back now. Lagniappe will now be going on a diet, since his spending several days with my mother always results in his eating far too much ice cream.

We got back in last night and unpacked, and today it's back to business as usual. I would, however, like to give a perfect example of why capitalism and competition in the marketplace will always beat the alternative such as we're seeing with Obama's mandated health care scam. Forf this example, I have to point you all to the Ohio Turnpike.

At each rest stop along the turnpike, east or west, there is a restaurant. Typically the Turnpike Authority grants the concession to one food-serving restaurant only. Sometimes there may be a Starbucks or some other lite venue there, but only one "sit-down" concessionaire per stop. In most of these rest stops, it's a McDonalds.

Now this would not be bad in itself. I can eat at McDonalds occasionally. However these McDonalds restaurants typically suck in both pricing and the customer service department. Prices are much higher in these stores than in any other McDonalds, and in every one that I saw in both directions, there were long, slow lines for service because they were only manning one or two registers while three to five other registers just had "Next Register Please" signs on them. Lots of people wanted food, but they all had to wait ridiculously long times to get it--and pay more for it.

Why does it work like that? because there is no alternative. It's McDonalds or nothing. They are the only food choice on the turnpike, and you can't just hop on and off easily anywhere you like because the exits are few and far between and you have to screw with the tolls both exiting and re-entering if you do. So it makes sense to just stay on and deal with it, but that also means that you have to accept whatever shitty service that McDonalds feels like giving you, and they know that most of you will because there's just no other choice. You can't just shrug at their lines and prices and go over to the Burger King next door; McDonalds has a monopoly and they exploit that fact to the detriment of their customers.

After seeing this played out in multiple rest stops both going and returning, I finally confronted a manager named Samantha at the Glacier Hills store, 12500 Beard Road, in Springfield, Ohio. I pointed out that she had four cash registers but only one was being used. There was a long line of customers--it would have been longer but people kept walking away in disgust--but she was still only running at 25% capacity. Meanwhile, it took me ten minutes to get to the counter just to order a damned Big Mac. Samantha was quick to start tossing out excuses. One worker has a seizure and broke her nose. Another one was pregnant. Two others had just left--during the lunch rush--because it was the end of their shifts. She was short-handed and there was nothing she could do about it.

"You could hold people over or call them back in for overtime," I suggested.

"Oh, I can't do that," she replied.

"No, you can do it," I corrected. "You just won't. There's a difference. Don't tell me that none of these people working here would take the opportunity to make some time and a half if you offered it to them." I made sure to say that loudly enough for several people behind the counter to hear.
"You've got the people. You're just not willing to cut into the owner's profits because you don't worry that any of these people in line here are going to go buy food somewhere else. You've got a lock on the market here so you're not worried about treating the customers like crap."

Samantha again began to reel off a litany of excuses as to why she was short-handed and unable to remedy the situation, but she was talking to other people in line now--I was walking out. I was, however, pleased to see that others in the line had taken up where I left off and were giving her hell about it. I had given voice to the frustrated people and spurred them to protest. My job was done.

I am, however, still writing letters to both McDonalds and the Turnpike Authority. McDonalds needs to kick their franchisees in the ass and the TA needs to allow some competition in these rest areas and put two or more full-service restaurants in them. That way, customers would have a choice and if one didn't want to treat them right or offer decent prices, they could walk over to the other one, just like we used to be able to do with our health care providers before St. Barack rode in on his magic unicorn and pushed a law through saying that from now on, we can only eat at McDonalds, and that henceforth, no one can refuse to eat at McDonalds, even if they aren't hungry.

I can hardly wait for the new health care scam to take effect, because then every visit to the doctor's office or hospital will be just like driving on the Ohio Turnpike! Yay.

Thanks for nothing, Marlin Firearms.

So I've been having problems with my Marlin Model 1894 .357 Magnum lever-action rifle. When working the action, sometimes the carrier allows a second shell to leave the magazine tube partially during operation, binding the action completely with a jam that cannot be corrected in the field. This is apparently known to lever-gun enthusiasts as the dreaded "Marlin jam". This jam and it's fix are described on this helpful page.

Well I called Marlin to get another carrier to replace the one that's obviously worn and damaged from the sharp edge that they at the Marlin factory left on the cam edge of the lever when they built the gun initially. It's clearly a design flaw--their fault.

Not only do they not want to send the replacement parts out at no cost, but they don't want to send them to me at all. It turns out, per the girl who my call was transferred to at Marlin, that gun parts are considered "restricted" and only available to actual federal firearms licensees(FFL)--gun dealers.

I thought that she was mistaken at first. Whole firearms or firearms receivers--the serial-numbered part--are restricted per federal law, but simple non-serial-numbered parts?

Not by law, it turns out, but by Marlin's own policy. The carrier assembly is restricted; customers can't buy one. Hammers are restricted, triggers are restricted...you get the idea. If you own a Marlin rifle, you're not getting repair parts for it, at least not from Marlin. Seriously, what other gun company does asinine stuff like that?

So now I have a rifle that's down and no easy way to get the "fix-it" parts without going through a gun shop. And what makes it worse is that the failure is MARLIN'S FAULT! This is a common defect in their guns according to the lever-gun folks I've been talking to, and Marlin knows it as well as anyone. Yet they won't fix it without charging me substantially nor will they send me the parts so that I can fix it.

This stands in stark contrast to the wonderful customer service that I got from their competitor, Henry Repeating Arms Co., when I had a problem with a used Henry that I'd bought from a pawn shop. Henry took care of that problem like few other businesses would have and I sing their praises and recommend their products to this day.

Marlin...not so much. In fact, Marlin just went up on my "Do not buy from" list, right alongside Colt Firearms.

Shame on you, Marlin. And screw you, too. I will get that part, but I will not get another Marlin product.

Worst hotel experience ever...and I didn't even get to the room.

So last week, Lagniappe and I decided to grab a hotel room in Daytona Beach, just to get a night out of the camper van.

Because the LaQuinta Inn and Suites at 816 North Atlantic advertised itself as pet-friendly, I pulled in there to ask about their room rate. The desk clerk, a little fellow from India or Pakistan, gave me a quote and I told him that I thought that it was a bit much and thanked him. As I turned to walk out, he shouted out that he'd reduce it by twenty dollars. I told him that that sounded ok and I asked about their pet policy. He said that there was an additional twenty-five dollar charge for dogs over fifty pounds. Well that killed it again, because Lagniappe is a solid hundred pounds, and I told the guy so. He thought for a second and said that for me, he'd waive the dog fee entirely.

Considering that the guest parking area was nearly empty, I could understand his willingness to do almost anything to get an actual paying customer to stay so I told him that I'd take the room at the quoted rate and with no dog fee. I gave him my credit card and other information and he gave me a room key and a pre-authorization for my credit card that specified the original rate, not the agreed-upon one. When I pointed that out, he smiled and said not to worry, the rate that he quoted me was the one that would be charged to my card in the morning.

Well I wasn't born yesterday, and somehow I doubted that this little fellow would be around in the morning when I checked out and got hit for the standard rate so I told him that I wanted something in writing, even if it was hand-written, spelling out what the rate would be. He wouldn't do it and kept trying to deflect my request, telling me that it'd all be charged correctly in the morning. Finally I told him that I wanted something in writing spelling out the rate before I'd leave the office. He stopped smiling and replied that if I was going to be a problem, he was going to charge me for the dog, too. Well that was it for me. I tossed him the room key and told him to just give me my paperwork containing my credit card information back. I was done dealing with him and wasn't staying here.

Now it escalated. He said that he was going to call the manager. I told him that I really didn't care who he called after I got my credit card information back but I wanted it back and I wanted it now. But the little weasel just grabbed the paperwork up off of his counter and ran back into a little alcove behind the desk, jabbering into the phone that he needed whoever he was talking to to come to the lobby quickly because "there's a guy here causing a problem!"

Now I hadn't so much as raised my voice, much less said or done anything that could even remotely cause alarm in a normal person, so his reaction wasn't warranted. His was the reaction of a cowardly man who knows that he's guilty of something and basically confirmed my suspicion that he had been trying to play shady with me and now he wanted back-up.

In less than a minute, another Indian/Pakistani fellow showed up, identified himself as the manager, and did his best to convince me that it was all a misunderstanding. But I'd already made up my mind to leave and I told him so, agian requesting my information back. He wanted to know why I wanted to leave and what he could do to change my mind, and I told him bluntly that I was offended by his clerk and that having caught his clerk acting in what I believed to be a dishonest manner, I did not trust his clerk to process my credit card nor did I want him to even have the card number.

At this point, the manager took the pre-authorization sheet and wrote "canceled" on it--without signing it--and told me that he was sorry and that I was all set. I told him that I wanted an actual printout of the cancelation and my credit card information back, and he told me that his writing "canceled" on the pre-authorization was sufficient. I told him that it was not at all sufficient, especially since he hadn't signed it, and I asked for his name. He told me that he was "Kirit". I asked for his last name and he said that I didn't need that because he was the manager. I asked him why he would not give me his last name and he repeated that I did not need it. He also refused to identify his clerk by name, telling me that I did not need to know that. Of course neither of them were wearing any sort of name tag. I let them know that I intended to send a complaint letter to LaQuinta's corporate offices and again demanded their names. This just caused them to launch into an animated discussion between themselves in whatever foreign language that both were fluent in, even though I was standing right there just across the counter. I told them to speak English since they were obviously talking about me, and Kirit turned to me and told me that they were having a private conversation so I needed to mind my own business.

Having had more than enough of these two cllowns, I told them that I was calling the police to report a theft of my credit card information. Kirit told me to go ahead and call them, acting as if he didn't care. but as soon as I flipped out my phone and began to dial, he stopped jabbering at his clerk, raised his hands, and told me "ok, ok...just stop." He then quickly ran through a proper cancellation like I'd asked for five minutes ago and handed it to me.

The fact that these two guys went to so much trouble to avoid running that cancellation tells me that had I left without getting it, I'd doubtless have found my card charged for a room in the next few days and been forced to go through the hassle of contesting it with my bank. They worked way too hard to try to convince me to just trust them and leave without getting this cancellation, and their refusal to even give me their names is pretty telling as well; honest businessmen don't fear letting customers know who they are but the dishonest crave anonymity.

I've since called back there and determined that the manager's name is Kirit Patel. Even to get that, I had to explain to whever answered the phone exactly why I wanted to know it before they'd tell me. Clearly the shadiness surrounding this hotel isn't just limited to Patel and one flunky--it's systemic.

So I'm posting this here to let people who might be in need of a hotel room in Daytona Beach, Florida know that they should avoid LaQuinta Inn and Suites at 816 North Atlantic Avenue like the plague. The management and staff are the farthest thing from professional or trustworthy and not at all people that I'd ever give a credit card to again. I half expect to see my card number traded in some Pakistani bazaar in the near future, and I can assure you all that if I start to see any unusual activity on that card, Lagniappe and I will be making another trip to Daytona Beach in short order.

The night did end well, however. We found the Super 8 motel at 2992 W International Speedway Blvd and it was cheaper, cleaner, and truly pet-friendly, even to big goofy lugs like Lagniappe. If I ever need a cheap dog-friendly room in Daytona Beach again, this place'll be my only choice.

Lighthouse Tile and Carpet--a customer service JOKE.

And the winner of the Bad Customer Service award for 2008 goes to: Karen Ellis, co-owner of Lighthouse Tile and Carpet on Mildred Street in Ranson, West Virginia.

Now this is a small store that I'd done a fair bit of business with before, both in making improvements on my house and using them as a UPS shipper.

But today--9/22/2008--Karen Ellis just guaranteed that I won't be back in there again for either purpose.

It all began when I walked in with a package to ship out UPS. I usually ship from this store, both because it's convenient and because I'd rather give my money to the local businesses than to the UPS hubs or the franchise shipping stores that are springing up all over. I have thus far purchased my kitchen and bath flooring materials here for the same reason, even though I could get the stuff cheaper at either Home Depot of Lowes. But apparently, when I walked in, Karen didn't recognize me as a repeat customer (or she didn't care), because when I innocently asked for some tape to seal my box up, she gave me a nasty look and said rather snidely: "Well OK, but I shouldn't do it since you're using a pre-paid shipping label."

I apologized, and began to tell her that the person receiving the package had sent my the label and that I didn't have any say in the matter, but she cut me off, withdrew her tape roller (which she'd already began to affix to the box) and told me in a very nasty tone: "You know what? There's a UPS store over by the Weiss store. I think that you should just take this over there." And then she turned her back on me and walked away, back towards the back of the store.

"Wow!" I said, surprised that she could be that rude for no reason at all. I mean, I'd just walked in, said "hello" with a smile, petted the store dog...this was totally inappropriate.

But she wasn't finished yet. "I'm just sick of you people coming in here, not paying for anything, and expecting me to provide the tape!" she said from behind her counter back in the rear of the store. "I could have charged you a dollar for it. Tape costs me money, you know."

I was shocked and more than a little insulted. I guess that she's forgotten how every other time I've ever shipped from her store, I've paid the shipping costs, including her surcharge. I guess that she's forgotten the tile and floor mats that I bought not even two months ago, too. Well she can definitely forget about the tile and rugs that I was going to buy to do my other two bathrooms and my kitchen, that's for damned sure. I can't believe that I was actually dressed down just for walking through the door with a (gasp!) pre-paid UPS label and asking for a couple of strips of tape off of her tape roll. I guess I didn't think that a bit of tape would have put her out to such an extent that she felt the need to disrespect and insult me, and had she even asked nicely for a dollar I'd have paid it without a problem just for the convenience of getting the package sealed and off my hands. But the nastiness in telling me to take my business someplace else, and the turning of the back to walk away from me, and then throwing the "I'm just sick of you people..." at me from the cover of her back counter was just too much. This is undoubtedly why the store is always devoid of customers and why the merchandise and samples are all covered with dust. (Yeah, Karen, it wouldn't hurt you to clean the place once in a while...it's not like you're actually busy waiting on people, are you?) The prices aren't that good compared to the big box stores, but I'm one who will deal with local businesses every time just to keep the money in the community...well that is, unless I need any more tile or rugs. Home Depot's right up there next to the UPS store that she told me to take my shipping business to so I'll spend my money there from now on.

Yay!

My Henry rifle is back from the factory.

As you may recall, this used rifle came with some problems when I bought it.

But the folks at Henry Repeating Arms said that they'd take care of it, and less than two weeks after I sent it out, it's back. (And they paid shipping both ways.) They replaced the barrel with a band new one at NO CHARGE and sent it back in a new factory box with new manuals and everything. They also sent a test target that suggests that the problem's been fixed.

At this point, I can't say enough good things about Henry Repeating Arms' customer service. Not too many companies would be this willing to fix a used gun that didn't cost more than a couple hundred dollars when it went out their factory door years ago. This company definitely stands behind their products. It goes without saying that the next time I'm in the market for a lever gun, I'll be looking at their product line first.

Tomorrow I'll test it and see if it shoots as good as I suspect that it will.

Customer feedback

I try to give ratings of companies that I deal with, particularly those that go out of their way to do right by their customers, or those who have the chance to do so and don't.

I've got one of each for today.

The first is BlitzUSA, makers of the budget 5-gallon gas cans available at your local home improvement store. I bought a few of their gas cans last year just so I could maintain a reserve for my vehicles and my generator. Unfortunately the full cans were stolen by some neighborhood punks to fuel their ATV's, and the cans were subsequently discarded in the woods nearby, without the gas caps, of course. Now gas cans without caps are useless, and I'd already decided to allocate these to "range target" status when I got the idea to look up the manufacturer in the internet and see if I could reach them. Well I could and sis, and when I called BlitzUSA up, they sent me some brand new gas caps at no charge. That's the kind of customer service that'll have me looking for their products the next time that I need something that they sell...like more gas cans.

The second company was Competitive Edge Dynamics, and they probably won't be getting my business again. I purchased a CED Nextorch flashlight from these folks after seeing a review in one of the gun magazines. I then looked at their website and decided that it might be a good light for me to carry and to recommend in self-defense classes that I sometimes teach. I was particularly looking for a light that had a tailcap button that would allow for momentary "ON" with some pressure and constant "ON/OFF" with more pressure. Frankly, that's what I thought I was buying, because their internet ad says "It features both ON / OFF and momentary ON use by pressing the sealed end-cap button." Most tactical lights require you to twist the tailcap for constant "ON", but the way that this ad was written, I believed that it offered a true click on/off feature. So despite the fact that it cost me more money than a Surefire G2, and despite the outrageous $9.00 shipping for this little light (I called them and they wouldn't ship it any cheaper), I bought it to evaluate.

Well I was not happy when I found that it has a regular twist on/off tailcap. I could have gotten that in the Surefire for less money. I also put it up against a Surefire light and found it to be no brighter even though CED claims that the light puts out 80 lumens as compared to the Surefire's 65 lumens. I was also not keen on it's on/off button being recessed into the tailcap. That makes it somewhat hard to get a thumb onto quickly as compared to other similar lights where the button protrudes. In a tactical light, I want instant light without having to fumble for a recessed switch. It may be a good feature for someone who is afraid of bumping th switch, but it just doesn't do it for me. The light wasn't worth the extra money that I paid for it, and had the company just taken it back and given me a full refund--including my shipping costs, since I believe that their ad was inaccurate--I would have called the whole thing even. But Charles Hardy, "CEO of CED" refused, claiming that even though the ad says what it says, since most other lights have a twist on/of switch, I should have assumed that theirs did too. As such, they will only refund the cost of the light, leaving me to eat the original shipping plus the return shipping cost. Screw that. I'll just keep the damned thing and tell anyone who asks what a rip-off I think that it was. I know for a fact that Surefire's policy is that if you have a problem with their products, they cover shipping from their end and do whatever else it takes to make customers happy. Surefire lives by their lifetime guarantees and I should never have strayed to try someone new.

If you need a small tactical light--and who doesn't?--I recommend sticking with Surefire. They're an industry leader for a reason. Forget about the Nextorch. It really doesn't offer anything that Surefire's lights don't, and you're just paying more money to buy from a company that doesn't try to make things right with it's customers like Surefire does.

Thank you, Ohio Ordnance. How customer service is supposed to work.

So yesterday, I went to the Nation's Gun Show in Chantilly, Virgina with some friends from work. I saw lots of nice guns that would augment my collection splendidly, but unfortunately, prices were a bit on the high side across the board and funds are a little tight right now. So I came home with some reloading gear. At least I can spend my off time this winter making more ammunition.

While I was there though, I took to opportunity to corral Frank at the Ohio Ordnance table to ask him about a problem that I've been having with my Browning 1919A4 heavy machine gun. (My gun was rebuilt by them a few years ago.)

The problem was that lately upon completion of firing, I've noticed that the bolt becomes extremely hard to pull back, and that once the gun cools, it literally requires a 2x4 and a hammer to get it open. Now I've stripped the gun dozens of times, fiddled with headspace until I heard clicks in my sleep, and detail-cleaned every single component inside that receiver until I was dizzy from cleaner fumes, but sure as anything, once back together again, the problem kept coming back, leaving me frustrated, confused, and in pain. (I slipped once while doing the hammer/2x4 trick and whacked the back of my hand with the ball-peen hammer.) I'd even swapped barrels twice but it just kept happening. Now considering that this gun cost more than my last car, I wanted it working right and without having to beat it with a hammer. So when I saw Frank, I asked if he had a minute and even though their table was swamped, he took the time to help me figure out where the trouble lie.

I explained what it was doing and told him what I'd tried to correct it, and he thought about it for no more than a few seconds before asking me if I'd checked the booster for carbon build-up. he said that it was quite common for carbon residue to collect in the space between the barrel booster and the barrel itself and solidify when the barrel cooled, literally locking the barrel and attached bolt assembly in place from the front end.

Well damn. I'd spent several hours playing around with the parts back inside the receiver, thinking that it had to be something jamming up back there because that's where the stuck parts were, but it had never crossed my mind that the trouble might be way up at the muzzle end where there aren't any parts save the tip of the barrel and of course the booster.

So I wrenched the booster off and sure enough, there inside it was a thick, solid carbon ring that had been gripping the barrel end like a vice-grip, keeping it from retracting when I tried to pull back on the charging handle.

Frank gave me some advice on carb cleaners and other chemicals and tools that I could use to get rid of this deposit, and he suggested that I try the newer Israeli booster assembly that was actually recessed inside to create more room for carbon build-up. He had several there for pretty good prices but I already had one for the .308 conversion for my gun so he sold me the .30-06 end plug for that one. Gotta love the versatility of the old 1919's.

Frank gave me several other tips on keeping the gun running and minimizing downtime, and he steered me away from several of the unneeded "must-have" accessories that others insist that every 1919 operator needs. He gave me quite a bit of his time and to me it was worth the admission I paid to get into the show just for the info that I got from Frank. He never blew me off or cut the Q&A session short to talk to people that might have been waiting to spend more money there than I did that day. He gave me the exact sort of great customer service that I've always gotten from Ohio Ordnance and that's why I'll continue to shop and get service work done there even though other places are cheaper.

And once I got home and swapped out the booster, the bolt moves free and easy and the gun's ready to repel human wave attacks, engage hostile low-flying aircraft, deny aggressors an easy approach up my driveway or just shoot up empty propane tanks and other debris at the gravel pit some more.



Behold, the happy war veteran with the new, improved booster in place of the old one sitting front and center.