Taking Gun Purchase Plan to Its Bizarre Conclusion

L ooking into the future, darkly.... It was barely 8 a.m. and the doors hadn’t even opened yet outside the new storefront office on Bristol Street. Already, a line of criminals--some in baseball caps, some in ski masks--had formed a huge crush of humanity all the way down the block and around the corner. Although some have been standing in line since the wee hours of the morning, it’s a well-behaved crowd.

It had all begun when a Santa Ana city councilman had proposed that the city pay people to turn in their guns. Within days of that proposal, however, the police chief sheepishly confessed that the department had in the past sold hundreds of confiscated guns to gun dealers. Presumably many of those guns wound up back in the hands of criminals.

Embarrassed but not wanting to scotch the whole thing and ruin a good revenue source, Santa Ana decided to combine the two programs into one time-saving shop ‘n go experience, thus eliminating the middle man.

The throng outside the new Guns ‘R Us store suggested the city had hit upon a winner.

At two minutes after 8, a police sergeant with a bullhorn came to the front door.

“OK, people, we’re going to form two lines. All you criminals wanting to sell a gun, line up here on the right. All you criminals wanting to buy a gun, line up on the left. If you’re buying, have cash or a credit card ready. And if you want your parking validated, be sure and do it right away, not after you’ve left the premises.”

The scene inside looked like the noon rush hour at the DMV. A dozen cops were working the windows, but it seemed to take forever to get through the line.

“Look, I don’t care if your great-great-grandfather did use it at San Juan Hill, it’s still just a plain old .38,” the impatient cop at Window 4 said to a seller. “Fifty bucks, take it or leave it. The .38 just doesn’t carry that much of a wallop. If I give you a hundred bucks for this clunker, what am I going to do with the guy with a shiny .357 or a .45.?”

“This thing has sentimental value, man,” said the seller. “I knocked over my first convenience store with this gun. My old lady carved my initials in it.”

Realizing the cop wasn’t going to budge, the criminal reluctantly took the crisp $50 bill.

Meanwhile, over at Window 7, a cat burglar was cutting a deal. “I don’t need much, just some window dressing, because I don’t plan on shooting anybody,” he said to the detective working the window. “But, you know, just in case. I was thinking about a .38.”

“Don’t be a sap,” the cop said. “You want something snug, something that’ll ride up nicely under the armpit but still fit into your boot. You’re talking about a nice pearl-handled Glock 9 mm. You pay a little more, but it’s worth it. And besides, the .38’s a mere revolver, six shot. It takes forever to empty the cylinder.”

The burglar thought it over, then handed over the $100. “Man, you cops drive a tough bargain,” he said, with grudging respect.

“Just doing our job,” the cop said.

At Window 6, a cop was working the hard sell to a gang member. “The Uzi is vastly overrated,” he said. “I prefer the MAC 10 submachine gun, almost pocket-sized. Hollywood loves it and so do terrorists. You’re talking rapid-fire with maximum destruction.”

“I don’t think so,” the punk said. “I was looking for something smaller, more basic.”

“Sure,” the cop said. “How about a nice little .38? It’s got game experience. It just came in. It was used at San Juan Hill.”

“San Juan?” the puzzled gang member said. “I thought I knew all the turf around here. I never heard of that.”

“You learn something every day,” the cop said.

“How much you want for it?’ the punk said.

“It’s worth a lot more, but you can have it for $75,” the cop said.

The punk thought it over and gave in, handing over the money. He fidgeted, as if he had something else on his mind.

“What is it?” the cop said.

“I know this is just a gun place,” the punk said, “but could I turn in some crack?”

“Sure,” the cop said, beaming proudly. “Window 6.”

“One other thing,” the punk said. “You guys got any hollow-point bullets?”

“Aisle 7,” the cop said. “Big display rack.”

“And you’re sure this .38 is what I need?”the punk said.

The cop just smiled. “Remember, he said, “If you don’t like it, you can always bring it back.”

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at The Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, Calif. 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.