Lame...hope your gear's waiting for your return!Well the mail came but I had leave to go to a different base for a week, just my luck. But on the bright side it should be there when I get back
More lame...I used to occasionally run into these tw**ker types outside bars and pool halls when I lived on the edge of town. Never had to pull a gun (or a fake one), but toed the line on a few scraps. The favorite was a few months after I started dating my wife and we'd just left a dive bar up the road from her parents' house.I came out of the pool hall tonight at around 10, heading back to my car, when a fucking crckhead aproached me and demanded my backpack or else. I told him to fuck off but he kept acting all menacing and agitated and unpredictable-like. So I drew my little blank mousegun and pointed it at him . That did nothing at all. I finally had to fire all six blanks to convince him to scamper away - something I quickly did myself shortly thereafter, being I'm not supposed to own even a fake gun here in jolly Europe. That ruined my day.
Shady Dirtbag: Hey man, you need to hand off your wallet right now.
Me: The fuck I do - kick rocks, bud.
SD, reaching for pocket: Yeah, you fuckin' do! Shit don't need to go down...
Me, glancing to see that the bouncer is watching this from the door, but not yet approaching: Why in the hell would I do that?
SD: Because I'm about to drill you in the fuckin' face if you don't.
Me: That sucks. (shrug)
SD, obviously a bit confused: What?
Me, taking a step forwad: It sucks that you're going to hit me. But if you think you've got to, go ahead...
Guy sizes me up and it seems to occur to him that I'm not buying the hand-in-pocket move, that he's 5'8" and 150 soaking wet and that he's threatening a guy with 4" and 70 pounds on him. And the bouncer has un-glued the stool from his keester and begun sauntering across the parking lot.
My wife thinks I'm tough and I haven't had to throw down since my early 20s, at least a couple years before we got together...