I don't scare easy. I was raised in an Armageddon is Nigh! religion and can field dress a kill, if needed. Not like Hannibal Lecter kill, food kill. I digress. I don't scare easily, and I'm often amused by the weird fringe of humanity, as evidenced by my bad sex story mocking.
Holy frakking sheet, these people are the scourge of the earth.
Let me back up and paint a picture for you. My husband is a hunter. 85% of the meat we've been eating for the past two years is meat he's brought home. (Minus eggs - woe for my want of my own chickens! - and skrimps. I can't raise shrimp in my backyard, it seems.) I am not going to debate the rightness or wrongness of hunting with anyone, nor am I going to debate the rightness of wrongness of fire arms with anyone. They're here in the US, my husband trains with military and policemen, and we are responsible gun owners. Save any derogatory remarks for Americans, Southerners, or hunters for your own place, thanks.
My husband also makes his own bullets. I raised a stink about that this past spring (it's incredibly loud, the hopper that cleans the casings) so he's out of ammo and hunting season is coming up. So? Gun show for cheap "reloads" which is what you called "used bullets." LOL. The bullets are essentially filled and loaded by hand from used casings, it's not like they're collected misfires, or something. I asked my husband if I was going to stick out like a sore thumb (meaning, I'm a lady with lady parts.)
"You'd be surprised."
He got that right. Moms with their little girls (like, four) touching handguns and cooing, "It's so pretty!" Oh, let me say that it was a PINK handgun. Because ladies can't shoot firearms unless they're pink, how would we know what was ours? I got a snap on cover to match my manicure! Feh. Sturdy, tall women that looked comfortable in a saddle with a cowboy-action Browning (I'll admit that I really like those - I mean, it's so Rifleman! Even though he used a modified Winchester, the really kick ass 1892 model. Yes, I just got excited over a weapon, ack. Look, I'm Texan, it's like we all just know this stuff.)
There was one chick that looked... I don't want to say she was a stripper, just that she might live a life that is stripper adjacent. She was with her man and babies (little guys under the age of 6) and had her boobs hanging out and her jeans shredded to the point of indecency, her hair bleached to fiber optic proportions, and was awkwardly carrying an over-under pump chump (our personal name for cheesy "I'm buying a rifle to protect my things!" type gun. The barrels are on top of each other, instead of a side-by-side granny gun/shotgun) while her husband pointed out his "hot wife" to everyone gawking at her.
Because the guys that go to this place? Imagine fanboys, like, the worst of the bunch, but dressed in camo with dreams of glory twinkling in their eyes. We walked in and passed a kid that looked about 20, CLEARLY had some form of autism (I really want to say Aspergers, but since I don't know, I'll just say he had some form of autism) that was talking loudly to himself while pulling his hair nervously, "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I've not held a gun in 7 years, okay, I can do this." My husband and I looked at each other as if to say, "Maybe you should make it longer?"
While I don't have a problem with the generality of the Second Amendment, I do have issues with the generality of the Second Amendment. Everyone should be required to take gun classes. Everyone should be required to undergo evaluation for competency by a licensed psychologist appointed by the state (imo.) Everyone should have to maintain their knowledge of gun safety and gun laws yearly. Because, you know, guns kill people, and they do it indiscriminately. I said at one point to my husband that these people made me frightened. Not that I didn't think I could take them in a bar fight, let's face it: the vast majority of them were beer-gut, elastic waist cargo short wearing, camo T shirt bought for the occasion with some pithy retread of gun-rights BS on it, weak ineffectual males.
They all looked like guys that would totally go on a hunting trip from their XBox. Not one of them looked like a guy that could hike more than a few yards. Well, there were maybe three of those types, but the rest? They all struck me as the type of person that heard a neighbor got robbed, so they were going to get a gun for "protection." And because they got the high score on Duck Hunt, they could totally do this, right? Wrong.
Here's how it works: you buy a gun at a gun show, and they have all sorts of paperwork you fill out registering it and you as a gun owner. There are police officials there that make sure that anyone going in or out doesn't have anything loaded. Then you leave with your gun and ammo in a plastic baggie to do what the hell ever. Um, I have a big ol' problem with the ease of that. It shouldn't be like picking up a remote control. It shouldn't be easy to put something in your hand that can take a life. I'm clearly not for removal of all guns, period, because again: we are hunters and that is how we bring meat to our family. But this shit?
And the vast majority of guns are the cheap, soulless, plastic and/or carbon fiber type that look like toys. No wonder people are so cavalier about firing them. They don't look like what they ARE. Continuing on the circuit you would later see a gunslinger hand cannon, like an old Colt or Smith & Wesson. Something that looked like what a marshal slung low on his hip to keep order, something that just needed to be seen to do its job, it didn't really need to "go to work." Someone pulls out an old Colt revolver, and that shit is serious. Not to mention that to fire one of those with any sort of accuracy means that you haveto be a bad ass mother trucker with some accuracy. Any fool can shoot a Desert E (semi-automatic) and hit something eventually. I think it's led to a mindset of not really taking it seriously, and if anything should be taken seriously, it's a god damn GUN.
And let me say up front that the last thing I would want to be at a gun show would be a black person or a Jewish person, because there is a lot of triggery shit [there's your warning] there, and I just got fed up and started saying "Shame on you" out loud to people. Confederate flags? Are you kidding me with this shit? STILL? And oh, lord, the Nazi memorabilia. I was making a disgusted face at one display case with a collection of German Lugers and Walthers and loads of SS patches, etc., and my husband said, "I think people might be collecting them because they came off a dead Nazi?" And I gave him a look. And we walked past it. Not that my husband is cavalier about that stuff, please understand. He just goes for specific items (the reloads) and then leaves. I think my pointing things out that he normally didn't notice was getting to him in that "what the hell is all of this stuff??" sort of way.
Speaking of leaving, we walked past some smug white dude that looked like a frat boy with Grandpa's deer lease who was selling framed pictures of Obama with some nasty shit on it. I will spare you the actual words, just know that I thought it was threatening and extremely racist. And I'd had my fill at this point and looked him in the eye, said, "Fuck you," and then we left. I think that's the first time anyone had ever said anything negative to him, given his affronted, pearl clutching expression. And let me be upfront: there were black people there. They like to go hunting, collect hand guns as much as anyone else, why wouldn't they? And they have to see that confederate, racist shit BEING SOLD? It's shocking that there aren't fights at these places. Good hell.
One good thing came out of this. I bought a new flint and steel, and holy smokes, is this a handy-dandy tool for
So the gun show isn't all bad? Just mostly? Yeesh. These weren't cowboys. These were mid-level managers looking to feel bad ass on the weekends. They were buying plastic guns that had no soul and feeling like they were swinging big downstairs, if you catch my drift.
* Full disclosure: I own an Israeli army-issued Desert Eagle (.50) and it is carbon fiber, so it has the look I'm denigrating. But come on, it's from the Israeli Army! Lol. it's also locked away in a safe, the ammo in another safe, and it only comes out on rare occasions when the Mr. and I go to the shooting range. RARE occasion. (It was purchased as an "investment" of sorts. I'm totally a hypocrite, aren't I? Probably.) I would, in all honestly, much rather own a cowboy-action Winchester or Browning, but Brownings are over a grand. They're works of art, both in wood sculpting and mechanical wizardry. And cowboy action means less moving parts and far more reliable action. If you care about such things. It may not serve you well in the middle of a zombie horde - see: Shaun of the Dead - but it'll take down a Havalina and feed the folks.)
And today I get to brave the elements and rip out plants from the garden and put new things in. (No more purple cone flowers, they're taking over, as they do.) Saturday the Mr. and I chopped down 5 trees (our peach tree! Woe. Our Deodar Cedar! DOUBLE woe. And the three yaupon hollies, HOORAY I HATE THOSE THINGS) and carted them off to the mulch dump to make room for the POOL. (And saved big bucks doing it ourselves. More money to buy new trees, hooray!) It's going to be 107 today. SURE WISH THAT POOL WAS DONE. *cry*