effengee
Member
Hey everyone,
I was told by a good friend to come here and post this message...
Quite a few years ago, myself and three friends went out for a day of pistol shooting. Here in Vermont, the gun laws are nearly non-existant and we have less violent crimes because of it. Few criminals are brave enough to invade your home when they all know we dial .357, not 911.
Anyways, we all thought nothing of walking into the local package store for some coffee, smokes, etc., reeking of gunpowder and armed to the teeth.
Each of us carried at least one revolver, and my good buddy Charlie had three pistols on him that day, which we all carried in varying states and degrees of; unconcealed, somewhat concealed, and even though Ben is a big guy, even his biceps can't fully conceal a Ruger .44 magnum in a shoulder holster... We're joking, mixing java with milk and sugar, greeting friends, when all of a sudden a gorgeous woman in a fur coat and covered in jewels is at the counter demanding in an obnoxiously thick Bronx accent that someone call the police because "Those men have guns!" was her direct quote as she pointed accusingly at me and my other friend, Rob.
The funny thing was, the guy behind the counter is a fellow sportsman by the name of Joe, who lifted his shirt tail to show the butt of his Colt .32 that he faithfully carries in an inside-the-pant-band holster.
"Yeah, so what's your point?" He asked her.
She freaked out!
God bless Lady Luck for her sense of timing and irony, but a police officer who's known me since I was twinkle in my daddy's eye, just happened to walk into the store at that moment.
"Officer, officer! Oh my God I'm glad you're here, those men over there are walking around with handguns, for the love of Peter, and that man behind the counter has one stuck in his pants, too!" she managed to spout out.
Without missing a beat, Officer Randall Johnson of the East Dover police department looked her right in the eye and said "Yeah, I have one too, what's your point?" After a round of laughter from more than just us, She indignantly asked: "Well, aren't you going to do something?"
To which he replied: "Ma'am, this is Vermont, they're not breaking any laws here, their guns are just as safe as mine is right here." And he patted his service revolver, which he's thankfully never had to draw in anger.
Then he addressed myself, Rob, and Joe when he said:
"Isn't that right, Gentlemen?"
They nodded in agreement but I couldn't keep my trap shut.
I stepped up next to her in woodland camo, Timberlands, and a Marine Corps T-shirt, a S&W .22 tucked in my waistband and in my best redneck backwoods drawl I said:
"Ma'am, we're just exercising our second amendment rights, same as you are exercising your first, ain't America beautiful?"
She left without another word and when the door closed, we all, and about ten other patrons just about wet ourselves with laughter.
I was born on September 11 1970...
I saw the spirirt of 76 freedom train with the real Liberty Bell.
I now live in Bennington, Vermont.
It is my Humble opinion that had I the chance to meet her again, I'd like to take her to the range and let her see what a great time can be had just plinking away at a paper target of bin Laden...
I was told by a good friend to come here and post this message...
Quite a few years ago, myself and three friends went out for a day of pistol shooting. Here in Vermont, the gun laws are nearly non-existant and we have less violent crimes because of it. Few criminals are brave enough to invade your home when they all know we dial .357, not 911.
Anyways, we all thought nothing of walking into the local package store for some coffee, smokes, etc., reeking of gunpowder and armed to the teeth.
Each of us carried at least one revolver, and my good buddy Charlie had three pistols on him that day, which we all carried in varying states and degrees of; unconcealed, somewhat concealed, and even though Ben is a big guy, even his biceps can't fully conceal a Ruger .44 magnum in a shoulder holster... We're joking, mixing java with milk and sugar, greeting friends, when all of a sudden a gorgeous woman in a fur coat and covered in jewels is at the counter demanding in an obnoxiously thick Bronx accent that someone call the police because "Those men have guns!" was her direct quote as she pointed accusingly at me and my other friend, Rob.
The funny thing was, the guy behind the counter is a fellow sportsman by the name of Joe, who lifted his shirt tail to show the butt of his Colt .32 that he faithfully carries in an inside-the-pant-band holster.
"Yeah, so what's your point?" He asked her.
She freaked out!
God bless Lady Luck for her sense of timing and irony, but a police officer who's known me since I was twinkle in my daddy's eye, just happened to walk into the store at that moment.
"Officer, officer! Oh my God I'm glad you're here, those men over there are walking around with handguns, for the love of Peter, and that man behind the counter has one stuck in his pants, too!" she managed to spout out.
Without missing a beat, Officer Randall Johnson of the East Dover police department looked her right in the eye and said "Yeah, I have one too, what's your point?" After a round of laughter from more than just us, She indignantly asked: "Well, aren't you going to do something?"
To which he replied: "Ma'am, this is Vermont, they're not breaking any laws here, their guns are just as safe as mine is right here." And he patted his service revolver, which he's thankfully never had to draw in anger.
Then he addressed myself, Rob, and Joe when he said:
"Isn't that right, Gentlemen?"
They nodded in agreement but I couldn't keep my trap shut.
I stepped up next to her in woodland camo, Timberlands, and a Marine Corps T-shirt, a S&W .22 tucked in my waistband and in my best redneck backwoods drawl I said:
"Ma'am, we're just exercising our second amendment rights, same as you are exercising your first, ain't America beautiful?"
She left without another word and when the door closed, we all, and about ten other patrons just about wet ourselves with laughter.
I was born on September 11 1970...
I saw the spirirt of 76 freedom train with the real Liberty Bell.
I now live in Bennington, Vermont.
It is my Humble opinion that had I the chance to meet her again, I'd like to take her to the range and let her see what a great time can be had just plinking away at a paper target of bin Laden...
