saltdawg

If you ain't speaking Somali or Maylay or Hmoung or Indonesian today, you ain't REALLY talking "like a pirate"

I've been without a viable firearm in the house for months now. It makes me nervous. NOt that I'm fearful of a home invasion or rioting and looting in my (formerly) blue-collar slum, but a guy needs to have something to fall back on other than a set of brass knuckles, or a .80 caliber flintlock muzzleloader or a .22 cal 'gallery gun'. So today, while taking a short break from slobbering paint on the house I called a gun store in Woonsocket, where I used to work with the crazy folks as a Jr. Psychiatrist.

Saltdog: "Um, I'm interested in buying a shotgun, do you have any Remington 870's in stock?"
Goober: "Well we got ONE, but it's used. Its got a fully modified choke and a 26" barrel"
SD: "Um,(trying to figure out how a 26" barrell would make the LOA, trying to remember exactly what "choke" does to a shotgun. And why.) O.K. How much you askin'?"
Goober: "A hundred and eighty"
SD: "Great. I'll be in around five thirty..."

So I go to the gun shop. I poke around, slaberating over the handguns, and cursing the dutchess for stealing my Baretta, which is now worth almost double what I paid for it.

After a while Goober asks me if I need any help. I say "yeah, I called this morning about shotguns..."

Oh! He says and starts pulling these monstrous shotguns from the rack. They were almost as long as my freaking MUSKET for chrissakes. "Umm...Do you have anything smaller?" "Like for deer hunting? A slug gun?" he asks. (thinking to myself that all you REALLY need for slugs is a pickle-jar cap full of beer and some salt...) "uh, no, for like, um, HOME?"

"OH!" A great big smile comes across his face and before I know what is going on, I have my dream weapon, a mossberg mariner, in my hands. "This is what the COAST GUARD uses for drug interdiction and boarding refugee boats and shit" He says. I look at the price tag. $375.

"Uh, do you have anything, um, a little more affordable?"

Well we got this one...

The "boys" hanging out in the store start getting all excited. "I wanted to buy that one"..."You promised me you'd save it for me"..."The action is like silk on that gem"..."that's the same thing as the mossberg, only better 'cus it don't have all that shit all over it"..."You don't even need to LOAD that gun, just hearing the action would make a guy piss hisseslf"...

He handed me a used "riot" gun. Price? $160.

I tried the action. I slid it one handed. And it KER-CLACKED with more conviction than the Mossberg, or my old remington.

"I'll take it"

I had to fill out the paperwork and Goober took me over to the ammo section to explain how THIS box of shells would put a seven inch hole in a man from ten feet away. "It'd KILL ANYBODY you shot it at" and "that gun and this load makes for a TIGHT pattern, but the velocity of these shells is low so it won't go through walls like buck-shot would"

"I'll take two"

And then, like gun-shop owners do, he dropped into an apologetic voice as I was counting out twenties. He dropped into his apologetic voice and explained that "you know, the STATE won't let you take your weapon HOME TODAY! It's not for like any kind of background check or nothing, they have, what they call a 'COOLING OFF' period of seven days. So's you don't just go home and shoot your wife" and he chuckled.

I told him, with a straight face:

I'd probably still be mad at that bitch in a week anyway.

All the boys laughed. Goober smiled and winked.

"I'll see you next Mon-day (all sing-song)..." he says, the boys laughed some more.

And I jangled the bell on the door, clutching my two boxes of special "law enforcement" shells to my chest.