Curse you Gander Mountain

You know, I’ve always wanted to say that – cackling super-villain style and shouting “Curse you Super-Guy!” always seemed like a lot of fun.

Of course, I’m not actually mad at Gander Mountain per se, it’s more that because of Gander Mountain I took an unplanned dig in to my firearms finances.  I had gone to the range to shoot this month’s e-postal match, and figured that a stop at Gander Mountain would be completely harmless.  Little did I know how wrong I was.

I was browsing the used gun case, when my eyes fell upon a used Beretta 950 Jetfire, the single-action .25 ACP pocket pistol that Beretta has made since the early 1950’s (1953, I think was the first year).  For the low, low sum of $169.99 plus tax, I could take this little pocket pistol home plus 4 magazines and a pocket holster.  With my known enjoyment of Beretta pocket guns (I own a 1919 .25 ACP and a 1935 .32 ACP), I figured “what the hell” and plunked down the plastic-fantastic.  A quick NICS check and some paperwork later, I was the proud papa of a brand-new-to-me Beretta.

The moral of the story is of course to never, ever go to Gander Mountain.  Or something like that.  You know, at the rate that I’m accumulating Berettas, you’d think I was collecting them or something.


  1. I’ve got one around somewhere. Darn things fit so well in small spaces and I swear they come out at night and change hiding places.

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