Home By Marquel Don’t Cry for Guns, America

Don’t Cry for Guns, America

[embedyt]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qdX33CqIRTI[/embedyt]Marquel, TPVs NYTimes Bullseye correspondent, was doing very little when he read Ready, Aim, Fire, Then Relax in the Lounge A new wave of luxurious gun clubs is popping up around urban centers, modeled after country clubs to appeal to people who did not grow up in gun-owning households. Marquel felt it a heavy responsibility to be the sole Times correspondent for TPV. To find in each day’s Times the one article they neither wrote, researched, fact checked, or paid for was and is a heavy responsibility. For instance this story about upscale gun clubs reads as if it were written by the NRA.
Upscale gun clubs? That sounds like a gated community at the North Pole. It doesn’t exist. Unless you believe in Santa. Even an upscale bowling alley challenges the imagination. An upscale trailer park? An upscale welfare office? What are these gun clubs trying to prove?
What they haven’t told us is that they’re putting one in Bergdorf Goodman, and another in Bloomie’s. I can’t wait. Take a few shots, buy a fifty dollar pair of underwear, and take a few more shots. Maybe at the underwear to make them more wearable in mixed company.
The pioneer in this field is in Denver. I took a quick flight to Denver, which is about as realistic as an upscale gun club. But three days later, when I landed in Denver I hurried over to the club and had a chat with the owner.
“What is so different about this that it will fit into fifth avenue?” I asked.
He showed me a room filled with vending machines. “The rec room. When you’re done shooting, or when you want a break, you can have a Coke and chips.” He said.
“That’s upscale?” I asked. “It still seems like a trailer park to me.”
 “Here’s our safe room. Everybody gets a locked safety deposit for gun storage.” He said.
 “It’s shiny,” I admitted, ” but it seems more like a Chevy dealer than anything upscale.” He wasn’t pleased.
“Here we have the founders room, for elite members. Look, a nice wood fire, and a wet bar.” he said.
 “It’s nice,” I said, “but hardly upscale. It feels like a pizzeria with wood burnt pies.”
“The best people in town come here,” he said.
 “Your idea of best people may be very subjective. Many people, many of the best people, don’t like the idea of gun clubs or of shooting for fun.” I said.
“I never heard of such people.” He said.
 “Does Bergdorf and Bloomie’s know that?” I asked. “Who in New York is going to join one of these? Honestly, the atmosphere is a bit cheesy. It reminds me of a gun club. Or a bowling alley. Or a trailer park.”
“Some of our members bowl. And live in trailer parks.” He said.
 “Nobody in New York does that.” I asserted.
He raised his eyebrows. Then his palms. I was afraid he was going to show me his quick draw so I took the next flight out. Three days later, I arrived at LaGuardia. I went to Bergdorf’s.
“Who do you think is going to use a gun club here?” I asked.
“We don’t know. It’s experimental. Doesn’t cost us, so we thought we’d try it.” The manager told me.
 “Why doesn’t it cost you?” I asked.
“I’m not free to discuss it.” She said
 Rather than pursue the subject vainly, I went up to Bloomie’s and tried to catch them unawares.
“I understand the NRA is backing this so it’s no cost to you. But why are they doing it?” I asked.
Thinking I knew all, I suppose, the guy from Bloomie’s spilled the rest. “They think this is a culture war and if they can change the culture here, they will face little resistance in the future.” He said.
I decided to go for the jugular. “They’re paying Bergdorf’s several million for this. How about you?” I asked.
He nodded with a knowing look. “Yes I think we both have the same deal.”
 “But don’t you think it’s kind of cheesy and destined to fail?” I asked.
“Certainly. But it’s their money. This would work in Cincinnati. But not here.”
 “So are you doing it just for the money?” I asked, like an idiot.
“Usually of course everything we do here is for charity. But this is for profit.” He said with his eyes at the top of their sockets as if to say, “sarcasm, sarcasm.”
 “I get it, I get it,” I said. I called the NRA to see if the Koch brothers were members.
“Our membership is secret,” I was told.
“Are you paying Bergdorf’s and Bloomingdales to install a gun club?” I asked.
“That’s secret, too,” he said.
 “What isn’t secret with you?” I asked.
“The second amendment.”
 “You’ll notice it isn’t first,” I reminded him.
“We’re working on that,” he said with confidence. I shivered and haven’t stopped yet.
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BY MARQUEL: Don’t Cry for Guns, America

7 COMMENTS

  1. OMG the beginning is so great. I don’t understand why the Times is perceived as anything more than a business rag

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