no, this is not a bit on hemorrhoids…
…just to be clear.
no, this is about my history with firearms. in my entire life i’ve only owned (thinks about it) six guns. for those of you OUTSIDE of texas that’s really low for texas folk. first one was a ruger .40 i bought in college, which was basically just ’cause i had the money and could – while it was nice, with double action and a de-cock and all it weighed as much as a tank – which, on the upside, meant it had no kick. but due to size and weight i traded it for a glock .40, which came with two fifteen round clips…then one day walked into mcbride’s to buy ammo, saw a tec-22 (the .22 caliber version of the popular tec-9 submachine gun that was popular with gang members throughout most of the nineties – hell, at least they buy american…they’re made in florida!) and bought it. who wouldn’t want a light gun that holds fifty rounds and requires less trigger pressure than a pellet gun?
okay, maybe somebody in connecticut wouldn’t want that – but this IS texas.
so now i had two. both held lots of bullets. the only problem was i DON’T live in the country and never go to shooting ranges, so save for the occasional plinking session at lance’s or JAB’s i never shot them…but my friends always talked about guns like insurance – you want them around JUST in case.
personally i’m starting to think that’s bullshit. but more on that later.
shortly after my mom died in ’96 i went through a “mad at the world” phase (losing your mom and your dream job in six weeks can do that to a guy) and i was buying ammo at a gun shop in san marcos to go blow shit up at lance’s when i saw a new SKS (a cheaper version of an AK-47 for those unfamiliar). bought it (i think it was only $100 or so) and got a 35 round clip for it, too. now i had three – felt like i could deal with ANYthing…but oddly enough that trip to lance’s never happened that week and after that he got a wife and kid and moved to town and so the SKS never got fired…ever. which after yesterday i see as a shame, but never mind that now…
…so then the brady bill kicked in and all my guns in their current capacities (maximum) became collectible overnight. sold the glock with the two clips to a guy for five bills (profit of $150 compared to what i paid for it) and later sokd the SKS for $150 and the clip alone for another $50 (a profit of around $65 compared to what i paid for it).
where does that leave us? four of the six accounted for, with three now gone and just the .22 remaining, right?
so then an antique store here started carrying guns and i ended up buying a sig from them. never fired it. never even bought ammo for it. sold it for what i paid for it when cash got tight a year later…then eventually traded an old dvd player and the .22 for my guyana boa. and that was the end of me and firearms until last summer…
…i got offered a sweet deal on a compact glock .45 and, for some reason, jumped on it. figured working for a tattoo shop it might not be a bad call…and yesterday it paid off in bonding time with the boss. we went out shooting yesterday in gonzales (where his dad, our owner, lives). i brought the glock. they brought everything from pistols to deer rifles to east european carbine assault rifles. i watch enough CSI to know casings are evidence – at the end of the day we left a LOT of evidence…and a little skin courtesy of the FIRST round i shot causing the slide to catch on my thumb and rip it open and it wouldn’t stop bleeding. and then on round fifty (last shot) the gun jammed, which i thought glock’s never did. that made me nervous, but i was ass-out of bullets so no harm, no foul, i suppose. now i kinda want an assault rifle, but something tells me that could end badly…*shrug*…maybe a shotgun would be a better call.