Have you ever seen something you wanted so badly that you'd sell your eternal soul, give up your left testicle, and your firstborn child to own? I have. Our local Ranch and Home store has opened a gun section. Last night, in need of some bulk 9mm (an eternal quest) I stopped in. Looking in the display counter first, I spotted a C96 Mauser with case/stock for a cool grand. Very little bluing left, but to my eyes utterly gorgeous. Still, as much as I would like one in my collection, it wasn't even mildly tempting. What, then, was? Ah, my friends, the temptress was one of the most pristine M1 Garands that I've ever seen. Not only that, but it was an M1D, with M84 scope sniper variant. Ten thousand of them made, four thousand destroyed by he who's administration shall not be named in 1994. Rare, in other words. Two thousand, five hundred bucks, and you have no idea how close I came to pulling out Mr. Mastercard. As I told the gent behind the counter, that rifle was a naked twenty-year-old enticing me. Even now, twenty-four hours later, I can still hear her siren call. God, give me strength.
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