My favourite story is from 2004, when I drove a buddy to a store in Empire (it's the little company town 4 miles south from Gerlach, on Rt. 447). My friend went to buy his thing, and I got out of the truck and enjoyed myself. A group of burners in front of the store watched me for a while, then asked: "Excuse us, but are those guns real?"
I was at a loss of words. Why would I keep fake guns on a gun rack in my truck? I just could not comprehend the thought process that yielded the question.
If they were chicks, my super-inflated ego would assume that they were hitting on me ineptly, but no... they weren't.