I’ve dreamt of getting my private pilot’s license ever since I can remember. About two months ago, the planets finally aligned. I had the time to take the training course at a good local flight school. Now that ground school is over I need to get some hours in an actual airplane to keep moving forward. That costs money. To fund the first third my flight airtime I decided to sell off my old competition rifle. There’s just one problem: no one wants to buy it . . .
This isn’t a matter of price, parts or advertising. The gun boasts about $2,500 of top-of-the-line kit. Everything from a Noveske barrel down to a Magpul aluminum trigger guard. (I’m asking $1,750.) I listed the rifle for sale on Reddit, where it was viewed plenty of times. No, the problem is, well, the following response pretty much sums it up:
I’m sorry I can’t take it away from you. It’s your baby. Please find another way to get that money.
Translation: if I sold the rifle – if someone bought it from me – I’d regret the decision later in life, perhaps the rest of my life. Potential buyers, bless their hearts, don’t want to inflict that pain on me. Probably because they’ve been there, done that and rued the day.
I’ll admit that this was my first AR-15, the first gun I built myself and my first competition rifle (besides the Anschutz .22lr rifle that still sits in its locker at Penn State). But I’m not seeing the issue. I’d never sell my first first gun, a 1928 Mosin-Nagant. But this AR I’d happily part with. Especially if the funds go towards fulfilling a dream I’ve always had.
Somehow, I don’t think that’s how capitalism is supposed to work: the market protecting the seller from their own bad decisions. Caveat emptor, n’est-ce pas? Either way, I’m going to have to find a different way to sell this rifle. Even if I have to strip it for parts and sell them individually . . .