Oh yeah and I forgot to add ... next to the Ikea lamp with the paper shade on my night table there's my Glock 19, my LadySmith Revolver (it's corny but I like corny), my Baretta 92F, my pretty little Ruger, my 38 Special (that was actually my first), my Taurus Small Frame Revolver, my sweet little S&W M37, my Kahr K9, my heavily customized Kahr E9 (which is starting to bore me), my Taurus PT111 (I just keep it for nostalgic reasons), my EG Makarov, and my good old Glock 27.
Okay just kidding. I don't have a gun, though I grew up visiting my grandparents' farms and ranches where everyone had rifles, because they needed them for taking care of wild things that might menace the chickens or calves. And then my parents had guns, and I think my sister does, but I'm not sure. Oh and I had a lover who had a rifle, and she kept it on the floor by the mattress in a cabin we slept in sometimes upstate.
I think I'm processing how it feels to learn so many people here on the Planet say they have guns.
So I tried saying it too to see how it felt, and kind of rolled the gun talk around in my mouth and played with it, which is of course a silly thing to do. I'll never get a gun, but I do like the vocabulary of small arms.
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