A Brief Exploration of Shotgun Mecca: Bass Pro Shop's Outdoor World

Some call it Bass Pro Shops Outdoor World. My sister refers to it as Redneck Kingdom. I call it Camouflage Landia. The fat fish floating in their wall-length tanks or the stuffed foxes and rabbits displayed throughout might prefer Shotgun Mecca. Regardless of its appellation, the store itself remains the same: huge, luminous, and summarily P.E.T.A.'s nightmare but a delight to anyone who gives a thumbs up to the NRA.

Step into the store and suddenly a patchwork of olive green, forest green, and sandy brown overwhelms you. At first, you're not sure if you've hit an indoor army base, an intense Boy Scout convention, or the set of a Vietnam flick with moose. Some part of your brain thinks that perhaps it's the merger of all three. It's only after your eyes have adjusted that you begin to make out a fishing lure from a tent, spot a few price tags here and there, and realize that you've stumbled upon an unusual case of America's favorite pastime (not buffet hopping; the other one---retail therapy.)

Now let me move back for a moment and throw out a few definitions. After all, not everyone reading this has visited Outdoor World, or a hunting store of any kind, before. You more adventurous Northern urban types probably know the trendy, granola-friendly likes of R.E.I. and L.L. Bean. But an inventory that includes fluorescent orange coats mixed with camouflage patterned furniture is probably much more foreign to you. Bean might do a dish set with a charming squirrel motif but never would they ever carry plastic plates with cartoonish pictures of smiling bass landed by Uncle Bucky as he smiles his missing-tooth grin.

As you may suspect, a hunting store sells stuff with which you use to hunt. But a mega hunting store, like Bass Pro, sells more than that; they also sell stuff with which you can show everyone just how much you love to hunt (dictionary type definition over.) In other words, they do not stop at guns, bullets, animal callers, and fishing gear. They also sell tacky polos emblazoned with images of the hunt, flashy beer can coolers bearing the store name, and even giant throw pillows in the shapes of prize trout. This is only the beginning.

The theme of "hunting is glorious" pervades the store from corner to corner to corner to...Jesus, how many corners does this place have? Where does it end? Did we pass this powerboat display already? That elk looks familiar. No, wait, this one is a six-point. Everywhere you go, it's "celebrate the kill!" Where you don't see actual guns, they are represented on coffee mugs or T-shirts.

In the rare instance that you pick up something not related to hunting, it will surely revere rural life. The restrooms are marked "Does" and "Bucks," for women and men, respectively. (Do you yuppies need definitions for "does" and "bucks," too?) All of the candies allude to general store sweets, like maple sugar this or liquorice that. There's also cotton candy, malt balls, peanut butter brittle-everything that causes Diabetes in hicks in the first place.

Specifically for the hunter's wife, there is a vast section filled with nature-inspired clothing; their designers obviously made desperate attempts at conjuring a little bit of elegance by adding an embroidered leaf here or an acorn iron-on there. Unfortunately, those attempts fail. All anyone can see is that the lacy camisoles lay under the snouts of deer who gaze out their place on the wall, silently asking, "How the &^%$ did we deserve this?"

Shoot me if you find anything that directly honors city life; in the one-in-a-billionth chance you discovered a skyscraper keychain, there are tons of guns surrounding you.