So one day a few months back, I was driving back from a trip to Sarco in NJ, and passed Dimmig's Sporting Goods on route 202. I had never been in before, so I stopped. It was a small shop, and you had to press a buzzer to open the door. Once inside, I saw that it was a very small shop, probably 15'x30', if not smaller. He had some decent, albeit overpriced stuff, some black rifles, some surplus, pistols, even a few suppressors and some cases of ammo. Not a bad spread for such a small shop.
During my visit, the owner was on the phone the whole time, talking to his buddy about his new ATV. No big deal, as I wanted to browse. When I saw an 18" black Rem 870 I had been looking for, I stood at the counter and waited to ask him to see the gun. He looked right through me, and kept talking. He made no effort to help me out, nor did he indicate in any way that he acknowledged my presence. Keep in mind, this is a TINY shop, so it's not like he didn't realize I had a question, I was four feet from him.
So, I wandered around the store for another 5 minutes, and tried to get his attention again, and stood at the counter. The gun was $350, and I had the cash to buy it, as I had been looking for that very gun for a few months. Again he ignored me, and kept chatting away on the phone. After a few minutes, I decided he wasn't interested in selling guns, and I left.
I was pretty pissed off at the treatment I received and decided I would take my business elsewhere. I ended up finding the same shotgun for $319 at a gun show, so I saved some money in the end.
So, today I got the urge to go visit some gun shops. I was headed in the direction of 202, so I thought I'd give Dimmig's another chance. Now, let me preface this by saying I am about the furthest thing from a thug that you can imagine. I was wearing a tshirt and cargo pants, I'm clean cut and polite. I attempted conversation with him several times, and each time got a curt, nearly hostile reply in return. His tone was one of extreme annoyance and disdain.
Him: You looking for something?
Me: I don't know, I just thought I'd stop in and see what you had.
(Silence as I browse. He is glaring at me from behind the register.)
Me: So, are there any good places to shoot around here?
Him: The indoor range down the road is the only place.
Me: Is that where you shoot?
Him: I don't. I sell guns.
Me: Oh.
(Silence again. I browse the ammo. He is still staring at me.)
Me: So you sell some Class III, too?
(He nods. A few more minutes of silence follow. More staring.)
Me: So, is the Harrisburg show worth the trip?
Him: I don't do shows. This is my show.
Me: Ah. I heard it was pretty big, so I was trying to decide if I should go.
(He grunts.)
At this point, he is making is obvious that I am very unwelcome in his shop, so I tell him to have a nice day. As I open the door to leave, his tone brightens and he bids me goodbye in a cheerful manner.
What. The. Fuck?
I gave him no reason to be as hostile as he was. I was friendly, polite, and tried several times to talk with him, only to be treated like a persona non grata.
It was an EXTREMELY negative experience, and is easily the worst gun shop encounter I've had to date.
I will NEVER darken his doorstep again, and I strongly advise anyone else to avoid that place as well.