Ah-ha. A challenge. Been a while since she's had one of those – most people come in with more specific requests, like 'I want to blow the president's head off' or 'I want my bitch of an ex-wife to bleed out slow enough for me to watch the light face' – so this is a nice change of pace, and totally not what she was expecting from Jed who is pretty easy to read when it comes to guns. Picking out the right piece is an artform, like being a sommelier only less poncy and more useful, and it's something she prides herself on being good at, though she does look sidelong at him, almost chastisingly.
“You know buyin' guns is like buyin' shoes, right? All about the ergonomics. You'd be better off bringing your friends in, lettin' them try out a few...” Okay, yes, that sounds ridiculous. Her business isn't somewhere you just bring people to play with guns, and so she lets the point drop even though it's sound logic: you can't really buy a gun for someone if you want it to fit them right, and she sighs in that way that suggests he's incorrigible but in an amusing way rather than one that's likely to get her riled.
“Okay, beginner's gun first. You'll be wanting something chambered for the 22 LR – tame enough for a greenhorn and cheap enough he can practice as long as he likes before moving up to a 38 special or a 9 x 19.” She flips forward a page or two. “What do you think – single, double or auto? Always had a soft spot for the Diamondback myself, but you know me and Colts.”