Post by TimberWolf7.62 on Oct 20, 2009 13:26:12 GMT -5
A couple of friends and I had been out target shooting one Saturday when we decided to swing through downtown to ascertain if there was a gun show at the convention center or if it had been postponed, as we thought.
We were going down one street which is five lanes, one way, when some idiot pedestrian walked out into traffic. If the lanes were numbered left to right, I was in lane 2. There were other vehicles in lanes 4 and 5, and this moron just wandered out and stopped in the middle of my lane. The guy was not some old decrepit drunk homeless type, he was an able-bodied guy in his 20’s.
I will let Steve take up the narrative, as he was riding shotgun. This is the story he told to the various people at the pool party at my house that afternoon (during the hot months – May through September – there is pretty much a pool party every weekend at my house):
“This guy was just standing there, motionless, looking at this big Explorer bearing down on him. He didn’t move forward or back, didn’t budge.”
My wife chimes in: “He was probably pertified by the sheer force of the aura of evil coming off of Timber.” Ahh, isn’t it good for your loved ones to know you so well?
Anyway, when that spate of laughter died down, Steve continued: “So Timber gets within about three feet of this guy before he swerves - ”
“Hey, it was a good four feet!” I protested. “OK, maybe 3 feet 10 inches”.
“HAH! I was being generous saying three. Your bumper didn’t miss him by four inches, and that was due solely to the fact that he was jumping out of the way. Anyway, Timber finally swerves, and he swerves to the left to go behind the guy! Most people swerve to the right. That scares the s**t out of this guy! He’s high-stepping big-time to get out of the way! And Timber has driven him out further into the traffic with this maneuver! He’s damned lucky there weren’t some other cars coming up in that lane or they’d have canned his ass!”
“I guess he was high or something, but Timber ruined that for him. He probably had to go looking for a double dose of drugs just to calm down from that!”
“And change his shorts!” came from some anonymous wiseass in the peanut gallery.
“Hell, I thought about going around the block; see if we could catch him again!” I said. “At minimum, I was hoping he would come running up to the vehicle when we had to stop for a red light two blocks later. You know, all pissed off and wanting to kick my ass. I was going to shove the barrel of my .45 down his throat until it thumped against his tonsils and then ask him courteously to please step away from the vehicle.”
“Well, if anyone could choose a bad time to start trouble, that would have been it”, mused Steve. “Three guys, two sniper rifles, two riot shotguns, two assault rifles, a 30-30, a 9mm, a .45, a .40, two .357 Magnums . . . Yeah, a bad idea to start some s**t with these guys.”
So many pedestrians – so little time.
We were going down one street which is five lanes, one way, when some idiot pedestrian walked out into traffic. If the lanes were numbered left to right, I was in lane 2. There were other vehicles in lanes 4 and 5, and this moron just wandered out and stopped in the middle of my lane. The guy was not some old decrepit drunk homeless type, he was an able-bodied guy in his 20’s.
I will let Steve take up the narrative, as he was riding shotgun. This is the story he told to the various people at the pool party at my house that afternoon (during the hot months – May through September – there is pretty much a pool party every weekend at my house):
“This guy was just standing there, motionless, looking at this big Explorer bearing down on him. He didn’t move forward or back, didn’t budge.”
My wife chimes in: “He was probably pertified by the sheer force of the aura of evil coming off of Timber.” Ahh, isn’t it good for your loved ones to know you so well?
Anyway, when that spate of laughter died down, Steve continued: “So Timber gets within about three feet of this guy before he swerves - ”
“Hey, it was a good four feet!” I protested. “OK, maybe 3 feet 10 inches”.
“HAH! I was being generous saying three. Your bumper didn’t miss him by four inches, and that was due solely to the fact that he was jumping out of the way. Anyway, Timber finally swerves, and he swerves to the left to go behind the guy! Most people swerve to the right. That scares the s**t out of this guy! He’s high-stepping big-time to get out of the way! And Timber has driven him out further into the traffic with this maneuver! He’s damned lucky there weren’t some other cars coming up in that lane or they’d have canned his ass!”
“I guess he was high or something, but Timber ruined that for him. He probably had to go looking for a double dose of drugs just to calm down from that!”
“And change his shorts!” came from some anonymous wiseass in the peanut gallery.
“Hell, I thought about going around the block; see if we could catch him again!” I said. “At minimum, I was hoping he would come running up to the vehicle when we had to stop for a red light two blocks later. You know, all pissed off and wanting to kick my ass. I was going to shove the barrel of my .45 down his throat until it thumped against his tonsils and then ask him courteously to please step away from the vehicle.”
“Well, if anyone could choose a bad time to start trouble, that would have been it”, mused Steve. “Three guys, two sniper rifles, two riot shotguns, two assault rifles, a 30-30, a 9mm, a .45, a .40, two .357 Magnums . . . Yeah, a bad idea to start some s**t with these guys.”
So many pedestrians – so little time.