Happened when I was in college. A group of my fraternity brothers were heading out to go shooting in one person's Jeep. Full of weapons. Stopped at 7-11 on the way. Saw a car parked immediately in front, back-end-in, engine running. Saw a shady looking epitome of "poor white trash" (complete in "wife beater" T-shirt) going in, looking around the store nervously, and another in the driver's seat of the car.
My brothers strapped their handguns to their hips (not exactly uncommon in the small town in Arizona,) and walked in together. One brother stayed in the Jeep, parked right next to the "getaway car," making very obvious motions of checking the rifles in the back with him. (Including at least one M1 Garand and one SKS, not entirely sure what everyone else brought - I met them at the shooting site, so wasn't present for this fun.)
After my brothers went in, they gave the perp the evil eye, and watched the perp look them up and down. They saw the clerk look at them and breathe a sigh of relief. (The clerk could obviously tell which one was bad news, and which were good news.) The perp left in a hurry, got in "the getaway car," and they left.
My brothers followed. They went to ANOTHER 7-11 (well, one or both might have been "Circle K"s instead, same idea,) and repeated. This time the perps left as soon as they realized that my brothers had followed them. At this point, one brother told the clerk to call 911 and report the suspicious activity, gave the license plate. This time, they drove into a residential neighborhood. After following them for a few blocks, my brothers broke off. (This was before most people had cell phones, I don't think any of my brothers had one, so they couldn't call to update.)
My brothers then came to the shooting site, laughing like mad, and told the rest of us what happened. From that day on, my fraternity acquired the nickname "The Prescott Militia".
