CJB
02-04-2016, 06:14 PM
I sent in my new Ruger American 45 pistol.
Something with the slide stop (and probably a poor magazine design).
The followers would slip right past the slide stop's nub, and the pistol wouldn't hold open... along with occasional slide jamming into the follower on the last round, as it didn't get held open.
So... got a call from Ruger. They wanted a better shipping address. I was "in their computer" as a certain swampland address, and I requested my work address as the return shipping point.
Ruger's phone message was basically, the pistol needs to go back to an FFL.
Called 'em back today, and gave them the polite WFT!!! treatment. Oh no... we were wrong, it can go back to you, no problem.... we thought your work address was another individual. Hmmm.
Actually the guy on the phone was really good, gave me the hold on a sec.... came back and said "Address is all fixed! You're good to go!"
And someone, someplace remembers who's name is on their paycheck, and every product they produce! Amen.
....
Total aside.
I had a range customer back in the gun range days, who owned a bar down by the water in Lauderdale-by-the-Sea. Used to go there every once in a while just to patronize my customer. The bar is gone. He's moved on to the Atlanta area.... but.... One Saturday afternoon, I go in for a beer and a cheeseburger and he says he wants me to meet somebody. Mr. Bill himself.
I was a kid. Twenty two or so. Couple of things I remember from our few minutes of conversation. First is the man exuded the authority and confidence of someone who knew his stuff. He came across as a broadly educated man. Hadda be in his late 50's at the time. Next was he was amiable and carried no New England accent to speak of. Very amiable. Charming almost. And finally, I learned not to feel bad about the way my hair falls on my face across my forehead, because his certainly did!
Yah, my 3 minutes of fame. I'll take it! The other guy I knew casually was Val Forgett, who would visit his "Dud's Gunshop" from time to time (he had a hand in the place's existence). He knew cap and ball, flintlock... inside out, and was similarly amiable, and confident as Mr. Bill.
Something with the slide stop (and probably a poor magazine design).
The followers would slip right past the slide stop's nub, and the pistol wouldn't hold open... along with occasional slide jamming into the follower on the last round, as it didn't get held open.
So... got a call from Ruger. They wanted a better shipping address. I was "in their computer" as a certain swampland address, and I requested my work address as the return shipping point.
Ruger's phone message was basically, the pistol needs to go back to an FFL.
Called 'em back today, and gave them the polite WFT!!! treatment. Oh no... we were wrong, it can go back to you, no problem.... we thought your work address was another individual. Hmmm.
Actually the guy on the phone was really good, gave me the hold on a sec.... came back and said "Address is all fixed! You're good to go!"
And someone, someplace remembers who's name is on their paycheck, and every product they produce! Amen.
....
Total aside.
I had a range customer back in the gun range days, who owned a bar down by the water in Lauderdale-by-the-Sea. Used to go there every once in a while just to patronize my customer. The bar is gone. He's moved on to the Atlanta area.... but.... One Saturday afternoon, I go in for a beer and a cheeseburger and he says he wants me to meet somebody. Mr. Bill himself.
I was a kid. Twenty two or so. Couple of things I remember from our few minutes of conversation. First is the man exuded the authority and confidence of someone who knew his stuff. He came across as a broadly educated man. Hadda be in his late 50's at the time. Next was he was amiable and carried no New England accent to speak of. Very amiable. Charming almost. And finally, I learned not to feel bad about the way my hair falls on my face across my forehead, because his certainly did!
Yah, my 3 minutes of fame. I'll take it! The other guy I knew casually was Val Forgett, who would visit his "Dud's Gunshop" from time to time (he had a hand in the place's existence). He knew cap and ball, flintlock... inside out, and was similarly amiable, and confident as Mr. Bill.