My ex isn't so much an anti as a rabid hoplophobe. I have three short stories to share, a drop in the bucket compared to the fourteen years we were together.
#1 "
The family vacation"
We drove out of state on vacation several years ago and I took two friends ~ namely Horace Smith and Daniel B. Wesson, along for the ride. I'd already made a careful study of the laws and regulations of each state we'd pass through, even going so far as to call the Maryland State Police to ensure that the information was up to date, and so I knew what was permissible and what was not.
During the long drive, most of which was done at night, my wife and daughter frequently had to use the facilities at lonely rest areas and on those occasions I discreetly kept watch to protect them from danger. The next morning I pulled into a McDonald's in a state which allowed non-residents to carry loaded handguns in thier gloveboxes and so I took the liberty of doing so. Unfortunately, my ex returned with the food at the same time I was closing the latch and owing to her suspicious nature she immediately opened it and literally exploded at the sight of my Model 642.
So there I am, sitting in a car in the middle of summer - windows down and cars parked all around, while she screams and yells at the top of her lungs about how she's not going to come visit me in jail when I get arrested, and how she's going to take our daughter and divorce me if I am, and how it's probably going to go off and kill someone, etc. etc.
Everyone, and I do mean
everyone within fifty yards is stopping dead in thier tracks or craning thier necks to stare at us as she'd just informed everyone not legally deaf that I was carrying a handgun. It was in vain that I reminded her of the laws in that state, because she was never one to let a little thing like facts spoil a good emotional tantrum. She merely kept repeating what she'd said over and over and over while I started the engine and drove away before anyone could write down our license plate and report a domestic disturbance.
Did I mention that our daughter was busy covering her ears in the back seat?
#2 "
Gun cleaning"
Although my firearm maintenance frequently elicited arguments in the early stages of our marriage, she eventually came to realize that I was going to do it regardless of her opinions on the matter and thus ceased to complain. One evening, as I sat at the dining room table carefully scrubbing out the barrel of my Colt Series 80, she wandered over for a look. Without so much as a single question she picks up the .38 revolver to my left and says "Oh, so this is what the criminals use to rob stores" before pointing it directly at my face and
pulling the trigger! Not once, mind you, but repeatedly and accompanied by her best impressions of a gunshot. I'm sitting there ashen-faced with my mouth hanging open while the trigger is clicking and she's saying "bang, bang, bang!" (Thank the Lord I'm paranoid about ensuring my guns are unloaded when not in use)
As you can imagine I snatched it from her hand so fast it made her jump back half a step, and an instant later she was furiously launching into an indignant tirade about how "rude" I was and how I had no right to take it from her like a she was a child. Nevermind that she'd been
acting like one, a fact which I told her straight out. She was still shouting to wake the dead as I hurriedly packed up the guns, put them in the safe, and cleared the table.
Funny thing was, she had the nerve to ask me later that same year why I never tried to teach her to shoot. Not that she wanted to learn, but just to "know why I never offered." Yeah right, like I'm going to offer to teach a woman who's physically abusive and subject to rages, has a temper problem, is insecure, and plays with guns like toys.
#3 "
The (so-called)
Anniversary present"
I'll never forget my first gun. It was shortly before our anniversary that I found a sweet deal on a nice Colt revolver and quickly plunked down the necessary funds to complete the transaction. Although I appreciated my good fortune the wife threw a fit, loudly proclaiming that she'd divorce me if I purchased the gun or even dared to bring it into the house, as she would not live in a home with guns. As the days of the waiting period passed, she repeated her ultimatum and even went so far as to make a show of partially packing an overnight bag. Finally the day came for me to pick up my blued steel beauty and I proudly brought it home to discover that the wife was right where I left her - clearly
not a woman of her word.
Well, true to form her ego wouldn't permit her to admit that she'd been unable to control my actions and so in an effort to cushion her wounded pride she managed to convince herself that she'd "allowed" me to purchase the gun as an anniversary present. Imagine! Not only had she "let" me buy it, but she'd even paid for it. How convenient. Better still, she even had the male genitalia to tell that story to members of my family who had heard her threats and rants against the purchase only a few weeks earlier.
Ah, the lengths to which self-delusion will go.....
She may not end up carrying, but she will understand them and know how to handle them.
sold it!! :banghead: 
