That's basically the way it works in really high-end audio. If you're contemplating spending $200K+ (or even $30K+, if you're smart) on a pair of speakers, there are about a half-dozen shows every year where you can go to hear them. You just plan a vacation around auditioning the gear. The manufacturers know that almost no one will actually stock their incredibly expensive stuff so they take on the cost of exhibiting at a show several times a year so that prospective buyers can hear their products.The other version of this is if the manfs would send us FREE samples so potential customers could fondle the stuff.
Those really expensive speakers (and amps and turntables, etc.) will have some dealers, though, although it's frequently just two or three dealers in the entire country. If you're really interested in the product, you can book a flight and go to the dealer where you get served some wine and given enough time to make a decision.
At the highest end (say, a pair of Wilson WAMM Master Chronosonic speakers for ~$685K, plus the cost of subwoofers), when you make the purchase the factory sends a couple of engineers to your house to install them, set up mics, run tests, and make sure they are tuned to the room and your preferences.
This isn't really comparable to gun sales, is it?
Two postscripts -
1. I have about 35,000 LPs. I kinda go down a rabbit hole when the subject turns to audio.
2. I got into audio because of CDs. (This story might actually have some bearing on the subject at hand.) Phillips advertised CDs as "Perfect sound forever." I wanted that. I had too much experience sitting in the middle of bands and orchestras; record players all just sounded awful to me. But "Perfect sound forever"? Sign me up!
In retrospect, we know that early CDs were garbage. They sounded awful. I took my test CD (Telarc's "Four Seasons", of course) into Audio ProPhiles in Houston where the nice lady let me play it. The player was by Phase Linear, the electronics by Krell, and the speakers were the original Apogees. Literally within one bar of the music starting, I shoved my fingers in my ears and screamed at her to turn it off. It was painfully awful.
She looked at me kinda funny for a minute than introduced me to their Goldmund Reference turntable with a top-end (Koetsu, I believe) cartridge. That was a $30K turntable back in 1982.
She let me spend the afternoon playing records. I was in heaven. I've been devoted to analog (LPs and a few hundred reel-to-reel tapes) ever since.
The moral? There's power in letting customers try before they buy. How to translate that for low-dollar goods like average firearms, though, is something about which I have no clue.