Back in 1966 I was wealthy. I worked all summer at a real job. I saved my nickels and I saved my dimes (Like Blue Bayou), then at the end of the summer I headed over to the friendly gunstore. The proprietor knew me well. A friend had bought a Browning T-1, but all the gunshop had was a T-2, so he did the considerate thing, he cut the price to the T-1 level
and said the nicer wood and longer barrel shouldn't get in the way. Then he walked over to his ammo shelf and built me a brick of assorted (sordid?) ammo. Some of the boxes weren't full, an oddity at a gunshop. I didn't care. Then, as now, ammo is ammo.
He did it for a reason. He told me to stick a scope on the thing and test all the different brands and velocities and get back to him. The most interesting thing was the little boltgun seemed to like the high dollar target ammo pretty well, but it really grouped the Remington golden bullet hollow points. Then I did something really out of character. I returned all the ammo I felt the gun didn't like! Just what he'd expected me to do.
Then I went on a buying mission. I started looking for those Remington's at fair prices. What I found was some kind of crazy close out from a place named "Klein's". The ones I found weren't at that place, I've never been there. But I bought several bricks of it for 67 cents a box. I've still got some in the powder magazine. With the long since faded price stickers still there, if somehow soaked with a little oil.
I've also got the 2nd can of Browning gun oil privided with the gun.
I have no pride, its too expensive. But at yard sales out in the country I used to stumble across the old Western brand 22s in the nickel cases. I bought every one I found. I liked the headstamp. My now deceased FIL was an NRA instructor (for a long time). He taught target shooting at the firehouse and to Boy Scouts. He gave me a few bricks to "shoot up". That was long after he stopped training, but still had a bunch of ammo. When he died, someone else stole it (as opposed to me getting it.)
Ammo scrounges are everywhere. We're at the opposite end of the spectrum from those who just burn it up for fun. It relates to our early upbringing, and how affluent we were. I worked hard all my life to make sure my son's had it better than me. I'm sure my dad would take offense to that, he said he did the same thing.