Great thread. Lots of good lessons here for everyone. For my own contribution:
A little back story first...Many years ago now, after being freed of certain obligations in a foreign country, I moved back to the United States. My wife and I found a nice little house to rent in a little town not too far from where I grew up, where I had some family. As fate would have it, the owner of the house was killed in a car accident literally within days of us signing the lease. Knowing how things like that go for people, and knowing that his elderly wife wasn't up to managing rentals, I offered to buy the place from the widow--something which would benefit both of us; we needed a house, and she didn't want one. She agreed before I could even finish the question and we made a handshake deal right there. They hadn't owed anything on the place, so she made a good chunk of change and we got a good deal on our first house.
The place was old and had been rented out for about ten years before we moved in, so it was a tad on the run down side. Several additions had been made to it over the years, so the floor plan was sorta funky. With all the work that needed to be done in my opinion, I decided to pretty much gut the place and start from scratch with a new floor plan and new everything. All that survived the renovation were the outside walls. I even re-roofed the place.
As I started to tear the place apart, my wife and I moved out and stayed with my relatives nearby. They knew what I was up to at our house and suggested that I ask a friend of theirs to help. We'll call this guy "Bob." Well, I knew Bob and knew that, among other things like being a heavy drinker and an occasional drug user, he was genuinely talented at construction. He was a serious perfectionist and had an almost savant-like ability to build and repair things. So, figuring that four hands are better than two, I got ahold of Bob and asked if he'd help. Having nothing to do between jobs, and wanting to catch up with me anyway since I'd been away for so long, he agreed and showed up the next day.
It was delivery day from the local mega-hardware store, which dropped off about $5,000 worth of stuff on the lawn, from lumber, to drywall, to new kitchen cabinets. As Bob and I started carrying drywall in, he asked where I wanted to lay it. I told him that where the new master bedroom was going to be would be good, because it'd be the last place I'd probably work on. He thought the dining room would be better, but I told him that the kitchen area and adjacent bathroom would be fixed up first, so the supplies would just be in the way there. For whatever reason, this irked him and he proceeded to debate with me about it. One thing led to another and we were soon arguing over drywall (it's funny looking back it now).
I don't recall exactly how my wife came into the picture now, but she came into the room and took my side. Well, he stepped up and got in her face and told her to "shut the f*** up." That was all it took. I'm a fairly large and calm guy (I had a few inches and probably 50 pounds on Bob), and I got between him and her, and I quietly told him to get out of my place and not to bother coming back. Bob refused, so I calmly grabbed his tools, opened the front door, tossed them in the front lawn, and a bit more forcefully told him that if he didn't follow them out on his own, I was going to do the same to him. Much to my relief, he complied and took off. My wife and I continued working for the rest of the day, and forgot about it. People are stupid, stuff happens, and I'd been through worse...So I didn't give it much thought after that.
Well, we go back to my relation's place where we were staying to shower, eat and go to bed, and lo' and behold, guess who's waiting for us to show up so he can continue the fight...Why, Bob of course. He starts in as soon as we get out of the car and I notice he's got a baseball bat. Not intimidated, I put wife on the other side of me and I and give her a "hurry up" nudge towards the house. As we're walking, I tell him to get outta here before I called the cops and something happened.
I continue to walk away, but Bob picks up the pace a little and brings the bat up like he's gonna take a swing. I give my wife a brisk shove to the side and draw my Glock at the same time. It only took Bob one or two more steps towards me to realize what he was looking at. He dropped the bat immediately and made a 90 degree turn, about turning himself inside out trying to get out of the line of fire (again, this is funny nowadays, as I replay it in my mind...It
was an amusing sight. He acted like there was a swarm of bees around him or something, haha). Right about that time, my relatives come out to see what's going on, and see me standing there with a gun pointed at Bob as he's hastily retreating, spazing out and looking for cover. Without asking what's going on, they tell him to get off their property and thankfully he does so immediately.
I'll admit here that I didn't call the cops. But in hindsight, I should have. I didn't simply because things ended non-violently, and I wanted to "keep it in the family" so to speak. He genuinely didn't scare me, and I guess I just wasn't that worried about it. So, c'est la vie. All's well that ends well...Or so I thought.
A few days later, the wife and I show up back at our place to do some more work, and my good buddy Bob and a friend of his I'd never seen before are waiting out front...This time with a sledge hammer. We pull up and I roll the window down and ask what they want. Bob's friend speaks up first and says that they're there to "help." I told them in no uncertain terms to get off my lawn. They just stood there and insisted that they just came to "help" me renovate...All the while, Bob is tapping the handle of the hammer with his fingers.
As this discourse is going on, I carefully slip the Glock back out and lay it on my lap, behind the door where they can't see. We didn't have cell phones at the time since we pretty much just moved to town, but I bluffed them with my wife anyway and told her to call the cops, loud enough so they could hear. Bob's friend was a little upset by this and took a couple steps forward, saying something about how I shouldn't do that. I raised the pistol up over the edge of the door and told him to stay put. He froze in place and put his hands up, and slowly started stepping back towards Bob, who was still standing there with the sledge.
I told them they could either get off my property and go away, or, bluffing a little more, that they could sit there and wait for the cops to show up. They chose the former, with Bob's friend literally grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away, muttering stuff like "you didn't say nothin' 'bout no guns!" (another amusing thing in hindsight; he was pretty scared). I watched them get in their mini-van and drive away. Since I didn't actually have a phone, the wife and I drove back to my relative's house and called the cops from there. I asked the dispatcher to send an officer because I had an issue I needed to speak to him about.
Ten or fifteen minutes later, the cop shows up and I explain the whole situation to him, just as I've done here, and told him that someone really needed to go have a chat with Bob because I really didn't want to have to shoot him one of these days. The officer took down some basic information about Bob and called him in on the radio. As luck would have it, Bob had an outstanding warrant. The officer thanked me and told me he would head over and arrest him if he was home. On the way to his car, I heard him request assistance for an arrest. About an hour later, I called the jail and sure enough! Ol' Bob was warming a mattress in the local Grey Bar Motel. Bob did eight or nine months on a failure to pay fines for a DUI he'd had years before.
End of drama.
I know that perhaps to some it might sound like I left something out...I mean, why would a guy flip out over drywall, right? But I assure you it happened as I've told it. I ask myself the very same question to this day: why would someone get so upset over an argument? I have no answer to that and am just left with the age old adage that there's just no accounting for some people. I've seen Bob a couple times since, and magically, his demeanor towards me much friendlier.
Everything worked out well in the end thankfully, and the notion that a gun can solve matters peacefully, as much as lethally, was greatly reinforced. Always carry your gun, Folks. Problems can crop up anywhere, at any time, for anything, including things that you might not think are a big deal. There's just no accounting for some people, period.
) the p22 the friend left me headed out. we pull into the friends driveway look in the yard and there is a dog and a sheep
(they have alot of sheep),so dad walks over to the sheep who is badly mauled and brings it into the light for closer inspection. At this point the dog gets up circles arond and begins growling and showing teeth, I warned dad (6',2" 260)of the aproaching dog so he yelled at it and it backed off. About 30 seconds after that the dog comes in my direction so I (6',0 140 not near as scary) begin yelling at the dog, unphased it keeps coming at me. So then I pull the gun fumble with the safety:banghead: and manage to get a round into the ground before it bites me. (the dog was 3 feet away!) stupid move #1 I knew this dor was aggesive so I should of removed it from the area right off the bat.(bat?
lesson learned and I will not shoot to scare any more!
. That was kinda weird, seeing as how I don't belong to the race they were screaming about. I sat silently for what seemed an eternity. When they left I returned to my room, changed my underpants, and then checked out of that place later that morning.
