So, remember back in July when one of my patients stock-piled ammo and threatened to kill me? Well, it scared me, and I had a peculiarly 'Murican response. That week, I was at the gun shop talking to the owner about handguns. A background check later and I walked out with a 22. Out at the range, it proceeded to jam repeatedly, in spite of help from a gunsmith who happened to be there that day. He asked a question I never thought I'd be asked, "Have you field stripped your gun yet?" And I gave an answer I sure never thought I'd give, "Yes." Everyone advised me to "trade up." Back to the gun store and after anther background check (in case I'd committed any crimes in the week I owned the 22, I guess), and out again with a Colt 380. It's a scaled down version of the Colt 1911. I picked it in spite of the price tag because it is easy to rack and known to be reliable. The store owner patted his pocket and said, "That's what I carry." My neighbor, the retired cop, asked what sort of gun I had and when I told him, he whistled and said, "Can't go wrong with a Colt - that's a fine gun."
First Guy: "That lady came here from work in a skirt and high heels, sat down and started shootin!"
Me: "Hey, I can hear you guys!"
Guys: "We're talking about you - come on over!" .... "You're a conundrum - you drive a Prius with a peace sign on the back, but you're armed."
Me: "I'm a Quaker, too, throw that in the mix."
Older two guys, "Whoa! Hahaha!"
Younger guy, "What's that? One of them little rice cakes?"