She's Not A Girl Who Misses Much . . .
Monday, approx. 3:00AM:
I'm trying to get some sleep and have been failing. Just as I start to drift off to sleep, a conversation starts in the street outside the window. Normally, this wouldn't be an issues, except that the two or three men talking are speaking at about the same volume that you would in a booth at a crowded restaurant - loud, but not yelling - and A's window is open in hopes that the room will cool down and to get some fresh air moving in. They keep me from falling asleep (I was right on the edge of sleep, too) but I'm still completely drained. In that drunk-like sleepy stupor I'm sure many of you are familiar with, I very seriously ask myself the question, "Why don't I have a gun. I could solve this problem with a gun."
The problem here came from not being able to decide if I'd stagger outside in my underwear and menace them with said firearm until they shut up and left, or if I'd just lean over and start shooting through the window screen into the street.
Reactions, Tuesday, approx. 1:00PM:
"[T]hat my friend, is why you don't have a gun."
"Background checks don't know that."
"Naturally, you'd just shoot through the wall and hit one of them."
I'm trying to get some sleep and have been failing. Just as I start to drift off to sleep, a conversation starts in the street outside the window. Normally, this wouldn't be an issues, except that the two or three men talking are speaking at about the same volume that you would in a booth at a crowded restaurant - loud, but not yelling - and A's window is open in hopes that the room will cool down and to get some fresh air moving in. They keep me from falling asleep (I was right on the edge of sleep, too) but I'm still completely drained. In that drunk-like sleepy stupor I'm sure many of you are familiar with, I very seriously ask myself the question, "Why don't I have a gun. I could solve this problem with a gun."
The problem here came from not being able to decide if I'd stagger outside in my underwear and menace them with said firearm until they shut up and left, or if I'd just lean over and start shooting through the window screen into the street.
Reactions, Tuesday, approx. 1:00PM:
"[T]hat my friend, is why you don't have a gun."
"Background checks don't know that."
"Naturally, you'd just shoot through the wall and hit one of them."