Guns And…

While working in the meter reader type position mentioned here, I had another experience that I wanted to share.

It was a lovely fall day and I was walking through a particularly gorgeous mobile home park. I was happily crunching through the leaves and looking at how beautiful the sky was. I love days like that.

About 300 feet in front of me I saw a man out in his backyard. My route was taking me directly towards him. He seemed very engrossed in whatever he was doing on his work table and I didn’t want to startle him. (I am known to be incredibly quiet and sneaky).

I called out to him. “Hello!”

He looked up at me, clearly startled. I continued to walk towards him.  He was a tall man, taller than me. He was burly and bearded and kind of scary looking (which in my experience are usually the nicest guys). He was wearing what I thought were suspenders.

It turns out it was a gun holster. Which I found out when he pulled a gun from it.

You can understand my confusion.

I stopped dead in my tracks (no pun intended). I looked around me, hoping someone else was around to intervene, or at least bear witness at the murder trial.

I was alone with him. I then looked to try to find a tree or bush or shed to duck behind. But there was nothing. I had stupidly wandered into a clearing like Bambi’s mother.

And children everywhere were traumatized.

I looked up at that perfect blue sky I had just been enjoying. I looked at the fallen leaves I had moments ago been happily crunching.

Luckily, this was during my heart surgery days and I had long ago come to grips with my mortality. I long ago stopped fearing death. I was ready to die whenever death came ( I had just expected it to come on the operating table or recovery room).

All I could think was that I was going to die. After living through all those heart surgeries only to be shot by this random stranger. What a stupid way to die. And that would have been the last thing I thought in this life if he had shot me.

Only a few seconds had passed with all these thoughts racing through my mind.

The man was definitely holding a gun. He looked at it and looked at me. “Oh, don’t be alarmed.” He smiled.  His smile was not reassuring.

How could I not be alarmed? He had clearly seen me. He had pulled a gun on me. What the fuck was going on?!

“There’s a cougar in the woods.”

“Okay.” Was this some kind of code? Was he a spy?

“It climbed a tree and landed in my neighbor’s yard the other day. And since I’m out here working alone… I thought I would feel safer with a gun.”

Turns out he meant a real cougar.

“And you thought I would feel safer with you pulling it on me?”

“No. I didn’t want you to walk up and see me wearing a gun in a holster. But in retrospect, what I did was actually much worse.” He laughed.

I laughed. Still very uncomfortable and unsafe feeling.

“Look, you can come closer. I’ll put my hands up.”

So, even though he had a gun and I didn’t, he put his hands up. I walked towards him.

It turns out he was a really nice guy. He was an artist that did metalworking. (Which is totally sexy). I wound up talking to him for about an hour about his art and my art. It’s too bad he wasn’t 30 years younger.

This stuff is sexy. Or is that just me?

And that’s how a senior citizen pulled a gun on me.


9 thoughts on “Guns And…

  1. Oh my God! “I didn’t want you to see me wearing a gun.” LOL, so he pulled it out. Good thing you didn’t sneak up on him, he probably would’ve shot you thinking you were the cougar!

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