I’ll tell you right off that nothing dramatic happened. But it was interesting.<\/p>\n
I’ve been working my way up to making my quarterly stop at the town liquor store. Today was the day for me to buy my Bloody Mary vodka. But as I pulled up at the curb in Old Blue, a black-clad, hooded young man wearing a backpack stepped inside the shop.<\/p>\n
Something about him caused my hackles to rise. I nearly drove off. Then I thought about Deana (not her real name), who owns the pocket-sized liquor store. A young woman in there all alone. I got out of the car, laid my hand on a weapon and peeked through the glass door. <\/p>\n
Deana seemed relaxed behind the counter and the stranger, with his back to me, didn’t appear to be doing anything untoward. So I went on in. The only money in my wallet was a $100 bill somebody gave me last week. Even though everything felt peaceable, I knew I didn’t want to wave that thing in front of that man, so I paid by debit card and as I was doing so he left.<\/p>\n
Deana sighed and said, “Thank you for coming in just then. That guy was creeping me out. He says he’s trying to get to (Big City) and he wanted me to drive him there. Maybe he was harmless, but …”<\/p>\n
I asked her if she was armed. She showed me a couple of non-lethal weapons behind the counter, admitting that she couldn’t find them in a hurry if she needed to.<\/p>\n
“Have you considered getting a gun?”<\/p>\n
“Well, you know how it is. They say you’re more likely to shoot yourself than somebody else.”<\/p>\n
“That’s old debunked nonsense.”<\/p>\n
We then talked about training and muscle memory and how we might react in a panic. Apparently, some of her friends, including police, have urged her to take training with the man who instructs all the local cops. She’s not inclined to, but I told her about the kind of training they get — not just plinking at a target, but using cover and concealment, shooting while lying on their backs or crawling on the ground, even shooting when half-blinded by Vaseline-smeared goggles. That interested her.<\/p>\n
Don’t know if she’ll change her mind. But in her position, I sure would.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I’ll tell you right off that nothing dramatic happened. But it was interesting. I’ve been working my way up to making my quarterly stop at the town liquor store. Today was the day for me to buy my Bloody Mary vodka. But as I pulled up at the curb in Old Blue, a black-clad, hooded young man wearing a backpack stepped inside the shop. Something about him caused my hackles to rise. I nearly drove off. Then I thought about Deana (not her real name), who owns the pocket-sized liquor store. A young woman in there all alone. I got…<\/p>\n