Welcome to the Gun Show!

This past Sunday, we were fortunate to spend the day with friends and also attend a local gun show. It was held at the fair grounds and they send you through a small maze of signs pointing you this way and that as you enter. Once we walked in the door, there was a portly sheriff's deputy who asked if I was carrying any weapons or guns on me. Uh oh, I could feel it building up inside of me and I couldn't resist. Before I knew it, I proudly patted my biceps and replied, "Just these babies!" He was less than amused as the group all let out a simultaneous chuckle. Guess I wasn't the first. We continued to venture in and found ourselves staring at rows and rows of every gun known to man. It was seriously insane and I feel almost guilty for not being able to fully appreciate each and every one. I'm not a gun maniac. I know how to shoot them but that's about it.

Fernando and I agreed ahead of time that if we were to find a decent 22 handgun that was reasonably priced, we'd go ahead and purchase it. Halfway down the second row, I spotted a Ruger priced at $259.00. I was attracted to the price and when I asked the hick behind the table if I could see it, he quickly retorted with "Oh, you don't want that ugly ol' gun. Look here at this purty lil' pink one! You don't even have to aim it, just point that lil' ol' red dot and pull the trigger." What the hell did he just say to me? I insisted that I wasn't interested in a pink f'n gun. Who would take me seriously if I whipped out a pink gun?! He repeatedly told me it was "purty" and before I snapped, I looked at Fernando and he knew it was time to get me out of there.

Further down the row I did find one and he was well below other vendor's prices. It was a Walther (no lisp, folks) 22ppk. It felt really good in my hand and was NOT PINK. I filled out my form that stated I wasn't a wasn't a former circus clown out with a vengeance, etc. etc. Did you know they ask you for your weight on those forms?? I'm guessing "Yeah Right!" was an acceptable answer since they never asked. So, I'll be picking up this bad boy on Thursday and giving the term "packing heat" a new definintion in our household vs. the old one which meant you were full of a stank that wouldn't wash off.

Pe-ow! Pe-ow! Bang! Bang!