jahwarrior
Member
yesterday, to avoid packing stuff for our move, my girlfriend and i took a drive to Clark's Summit to go to Everything Natural, a health food/organic/vegan/hippie store. they're about the only place i can buy Dr. Bronner's soap around here, so off we went. we had our son with us, as well. he slept for the drive, but woke up shortyl after we entered the store, and began wailing. my girlfriend surmised that the smell of hipsters and patchouli didn't agree with him, so she took him outside to wait.
i approched the counter, and a tall, scruffy young man proceeded to ring me out. he noticed the gun, and said, "whoa! duuuuuuude, what is that?"
"it's a 1911," i said, fully expecting him to not know what in the hell i was talking about.
"sweeeeeeeeet. who makes it?"
this is the part where i got confused. "uuuuuh, Metro Arms? it's from the Philippines."
"whoa, that's hot, man. i just bought, like, a Glock 37. that's the .45GAP, dude."
"oh, uh....how is it? the recoil i mean. is it like the ACP?"
"oh, i dunno, man. i'm totally new to shooting and stuff, so even 9mm is harsh to me, hahaha."
"ah, okay. well, i can tell you, shooting .45 from a 1911 is pretty sweet. it's like a firm push, instead of a snap, like you get with a .40S&W...i don't care for that round."
"yeah, my bro has the Glock 23, and that thing kicks like mules, man. yeah, i got into the gun thing recently, you know? my buds were all, 'dude, you're like totally gonna be like a tea bagger redneck or something,' but i was all, nah, it's cool, man. this is my right, you know? i gotta defend myself, and besides, the Constitution says it's our right and stuff. all my buds are all, like, pro 1st Amendment, but all anti 2nd Amendment. how can you, like, be against one, but not the other? that's soooooo lame."
brain....melting....through....ears.
"so yeah, next thing i'm gonna bag me is prolly gonna be an AK, man. rifle of the people, riiiiight?"
"yeah. anyway, take care buddy. enjoy the Glock."
"alright, bro. peace."
i walked out, bottle of soap in hand, and walked upon my girl talking to our son about dirty hippies. she looked up, smiling, and asked, "are you done....hey, why is your eye twitching?"
i relayed the story to her, and she laughed the whole way to Manning's ice cream, which was about a block and a half away, where we got a vanilla cone, and a rainbow sherbert cone. the girls there either never noticed, or never cared, that i was carrying, but as we ate outside, an Indian/Pakistani/Bangledeshi man nearly walked into the storefront window, for staring at me belt.
i approched the counter, and a tall, scruffy young man proceeded to ring me out. he noticed the gun, and said, "whoa! duuuuuuude, what is that?"
"it's a 1911," i said, fully expecting him to not know what in the hell i was talking about.
"sweeeeeeeeet. who makes it?"
this is the part where i got confused. "uuuuuh, Metro Arms? it's from the Philippines."
"whoa, that's hot, man. i just bought, like, a Glock 37. that's the .45GAP, dude."
"oh, uh....how is it? the recoil i mean. is it like the ACP?"
"oh, i dunno, man. i'm totally new to shooting and stuff, so even 9mm is harsh to me, hahaha."
"ah, okay. well, i can tell you, shooting .45 from a 1911 is pretty sweet. it's like a firm push, instead of a snap, like you get with a .40S&W...i don't care for that round."
"yeah, my bro has the Glock 23, and that thing kicks like mules, man. yeah, i got into the gun thing recently, you know? my buds were all, 'dude, you're like totally gonna be like a tea bagger redneck or something,' but i was all, nah, it's cool, man. this is my right, you know? i gotta defend myself, and besides, the Constitution says it's our right and stuff. all my buds are all, like, pro 1st Amendment, but all anti 2nd Amendment. how can you, like, be against one, but not the other? that's soooooo lame."
brain....melting....through....ears.
"so yeah, next thing i'm gonna bag me is prolly gonna be an AK, man. rifle of the people, riiiiight?"
"yeah. anyway, take care buddy. enjoy the Glock."
"alright, bro. peace."
i walked out, bottle of soap in hand, and walked upon my girl talking to our son about dirty hippies. she looked up, smiling, and asked, "are you done....hey, why is your eye twitching?"
i relayed the story to her, and she laughed the whole way to Manning's ice cream, which was about a block and a half away, where we got a vanilla cone, and a rainbow sherbert cone. the girls there either never noticed, or never cared, that i was carrying, but as we ate outside, an Indian/Pakistani/Bangledeshi man nearly walked into the storefront window, for staring at me belt.