1911 guy
Member
So I'm sitting here typing when I should be getting the last of my beauty sleep on a Saturday morning. My heart is pounding and my hands are shaking. I just had one of the most terrifying dreams I've ever had, if not THE most.
Bear with me here. Some of these details are screwy, but it was a dream. Kinda to be expected, I guess.
My wife is in the grocery store, I am sitting in the back seat of the car reading the newspaper. There is a review for the movie "Hostel" (maybe a tip-off: I don't like slasher movies) and cut out tickets to some type of home/garden show. The windows are slightly open, engine and air conditioning is running. Yup, at least the dream had this going for it, it's summertime.
I look up from the paper to see three guys sitting in the front seat. They're as oblivious to me as I was to them. I get out of the car and order them out. Guy on driver side immediately bolts, guy in middle is now standing on driver side fidgeting with his waistband, guy on passenger side is visible only from neck up, as I got out from the rear driver side.
The three guys happen to be black. Well, right now they're three black guys, but that's about to change.
Guy fidgeting with his waistband pops up with a small pistol of some sort. I draw my pistol (1911, carried IWB with 1 spare mag) and fire three rounds. My wife is just now coming out of the grocery store. Thank goodness she has her hands free, as she isn't carrying any groceries. She draws her Sig (which she hardly ever carries in real life) and assumes command of the guy I just shot, but is still on his feet.
He now changes to a heavy-set blonde woman.
I step over to the passenger side, to discover Big Hoss from Pawn Stars occupying the spot formerly occupied by miscreant number three. He raises a gun as soon as I step into view from around the back bumper of the car. I've acquired a sight picture as I was moving, so I fire the remaining four in my magazine. He wobbles and begins firing. I can hear the bullets hiting my car and the car to my right. I am reloading, which seems to take me much longer than normal. Just as I am finishing reloading, he begins to reload his now empty pistol.
I look over at my wife, who is trying to get the blonde to drop her gun and lay down on the pavement. Blonde is doing a beligerent "what are you trying to tell me" routine. Big Hoss has suddenly closed the gap between us. I level my pistol at him and he temporarily gives up. I look back to my wife. The blonde is motioning with her empty hand, the gun hand hanging down. I see the gun hand begin to rise, and put two rounds in her upper chest and head. Big Hoss grabs my gun. I grab the pistol tighter with my right hand, his hand with my left and slowly force the muzzle under his chin. For some reason I have to remove the safety again before firing.
I holster and look over to my wife. We talk for a moment about meeting with the realtor the following morning and that we must go directly to the police station. I look around the paking lot. There are no bodies, one spent casing is visible in the middle of the row of cars.
We're now in the car, driving to the police station, calling my parents to say they'll have to keep the kids (we do have two, in real life) a while longer. My wife asks me how I'm doing, I tell her my heart is racing and my adrenaline is on a steady drip.
That's when I woke up, exactly 35 minutes ago.
Bear with me here. Some of these details are screwy, but it was a dream. Kinda to be expected, I guess.
My wife is in the grocery store, I am sitting in the back seat of the car reading the newspaper. There is a review for the movie "Hostel" (maybe a tip-off: I don't like slasher movies) and cut out tickets to some type of home/garden show. The windows are slightly open, engine and air conditioning is running. Yup, at least the dream had this going for it, it's summertime.
I look up from the paper to see three guys sitting in the front seat. They're as oblivious to me as I was to them. I get out of the car and order them out. Guy on driver side immediately bolts, guy in middle is now standing on driver side fidgeting with his waistband, guy on passenger side is visible only from neck up, as I got out from the rear driver side.
The three guys happen to be black. Well, right now they're three black guys, but that's about to change.
Guy fidgeting with his waistband pops up with a small pistol of some sort. I draw my pistol (1911, carried IWB with 1 spare mag) and fire three rounds. My wife is just now coming out of the grocery store. Thank goodness she has her hands free, as she isn't carrying any groceries. She draws her Sig (which she hardly ever carries in real life) and assumes command of the guy I just shot, but is still on his feet.
He now changes to a heavy-set blonde woman.
I step over to the passenger side, to discover Big Hoss from Pawn Stars occupying the spot formerly occupied by miscreant number three. He raises a gun as soon as I step into view from around the back bumper of the car. I've acquired a sight picture as I was moving, so I fire the remaining four in my magazine. He wobbles and begins firing. I can hear the bullets hiting my car and the car to my right. I am reloading, which seems to take me much longer than normal. Just as I am finishing reloading, he begins to reload his now empty pistol.
I look over at my wife, who is trying to get the blonde to drop her gun and lay down on the pavement. Blonde is doing a beligerent "what are you trying to tell me" routine. Big Hoss has suddenly closed the gap between us. I level my pistol at him and he temporarily gives up. I look back to my wife. The blonde is motioning with her empty hand, the gun hand hanging down. I see the gun hand begin to rise, and put two rounds in her upper chest and head. Big Hoss grabs my gun. I grab the pistol tighter with my right hand, his hand with my left and slowly force the muzzle under his chin. For some reason I have to remove the safety again before firing.
I holster and look over to my wife. We talk for a moment about meeting with the realtor the following morning and that we must go directly to the police station. I look around the paking lot. There are no bodies, one spent casing is visible in the middle of the row of cars.
We're now in the car, driving to the police station, calling my parents to say they'll have to keep the kids (we do have two, in real life) a while longer. My wife asks me how I'm doing, I tell her my heart is racing and my adrenaline is on a steady drip.
That's when I woke up, exactly 35 minutes ago.
