I love you, Bass Pro Shops

So I was sitting there in the foyer of Bass Pro Shops this afternoon, feeding Little Mister while I waited for Erik to use the restroom, when I looked up above their fireplace and beheld this.

Of course, BPS is filled with dead animals; it's kinda their schtick.  But this, this is a marvel.  A truly amazing piece. The very existence of this thing means that someone, somewhere, said to himself "Imma mount this here deer so's to make him hold the instrument of his destruction."  Just look at it, y'all. Look at it.  It's cradling guns, perhaps the very one that killed it, and it's cradling those guns like I cradle my son. That's some deep stuff there, yo'.

Other things I learned at the Bass Pro Shops today:

• Walking up stairs, my spine has taken over the Rice Krispies noises duty from my knees.  I didn't even know my back could make that sound.
• One of the formerly-empty display cases has now been filled up again with targets and blue guns and similar things.  Looks like most of the rest of the cases have had stuff rearranged so the gaps aren't as obvious.
• In addition to selling guns for the rough equivalent of two months' rent, Kimber sells a fancy-schmancy pepper spray 'pistol' for $25 more than the next-most-expensive version. TBeck assures me there's actually a very good reason for this, but dang.
• Speaking of pepper spray, the Zombiepocalypse marketing has made its way to that product too.  I'm thinking they may be stretching things a bit there.  Pretty sure zombies respond to head shots, not capsaicin.
• I need to teach my kids the difference between wolves and coyotes.  While I was still feeding Doug, this family walked in with three or four little boys (who all, for some odd reason, had what looked like a whole bottle of gel divided among their hair in something not quite mini-pompadours, but close).  One of them excitedly pointed out a dead animal scene of a coyote bristling at a rattlesnake, only he called the coyote a wolf.  My first thought was "Damn city slickers."  And then I remembered I am a city girl through-and-through, and my daughters are probably equally clueless.  This must be remedied ASAP.
• Speaking of dudes and hair.  Totally saw a guy with blond streaks in his hair and lots of product and spikes.  What the fuck, dude?  He wasn't gay; my gaydar is tip-top.  Dude was metrosexual.  I really thought we'd grown out of that, as a country.  I don't want to know the kind of woman who is attracted to that kind of man.
•  Also saw two different women rocking red suede spiked heels--one pair of pumps, one pair of knee boots.  God knows I love me some fuck me now shoes, but at Bass Pro Shops?  It doesn't quite fit the aesthetic, and kinda screams "high maintenance."  Can't imagine either of those ladies fly fishing.  But I could be wrong. 

While I'm at it, a rehash of something hubby blogged about after our last trip out there.  The shopping center Bass Pro Shops is at also has a Dick's Sporting Goods.  They are damn near adjacent; you can see Dick's from BPS parking lot, if you get all the way over to the edge and find a clear place.  The difference is pretty striking.  I have pictures!  (And I'm being lazy and not cropping out the evidence that I took these from the truck.)

First up, the parking lot at Bass Pro Shops:

This isn't a great photo.  It was taken from pretty much the back of the lot.  We had to park off to one side and about a third of the way down the row.  There were no closer spaces.

By contrast, the parking lot at Dick's Sporting Goods:

This is the front lot, about halfway down.  The side lot looked pretty much the same.  Note a butt ton of empty spaces.  I'd guess Dick's had about half the vehicles BPS did.

But here's where the real story is told.  I took this photo of people going into BPS:

That's more than half a dozen people.  In the time I was waiting for Erik, I'd say easily two dozen, if not more, people walked past.  The crowd at the gun counter was about four deep in places; the number counter was up in the 70s when we left.  Used to be, we'd go there and they didn't even have to use it.

Of course, I had to take a similar picture of Dick's:

Tells its own story, right?  Again, these stores are very close to each other.  They are both sporting goods stores.  But one of them decided to alienate the shit ton of people who are willing to drop $400 - $1,000 on the purchase of one item.

Probably not a great business decision.



Oh, and this is apropos of none of the rest of this post, but I figured y'all might benefit from another Doug picture.  He's actually a happy little fellow.  (I say little.  He weighed 9lb 4oz at birth and is now 12lb 8oz at 2 months, 3 days.)  He does not, however, like smiling for the camera.

 Hand to God, he was grinning right until I held up Erik's phone camera.