daddyo
Member
A few months ago my wife, daughter, and I were in the neighborhood of my dad's business and stopped by to see him. He was about to leave to go pick up my brother from the airport, so we decided to tag along. We got to the airport early, and my daughter loves to watch planes so Dad drove around to the back of the airport where we could get a good look. On the way back to the terminal, Dad got turned around and started wandering aimlessly around the 'hood that surrounds the airport. Boarded up houses abounded as Dad meandered his Lexus about looking for a familiar road. We stopped at a traffic light and Dad prattled on about eventually running into the freeway. My wife sat nervously in the front passenger seat. In front of an old gas station across the street, stood a thug with an unamused look on his face and his hand down the front of his pants. Sitting in the backseat, I uncovered my .357 knowing I could easily take him should the need arise. After all, I had 6 shots of 158 grain Hornady XTP's that I could put into a 2 inch hole at 25 yards. 6 shots equals 6 dead BG's right? About the time the light turned green and dad drove away in blissful ignorance, I suddenly realized that he was probably standing guard and realized that if he had 6 friends instead of 5 I would have been in real trouble and that's not even allowing for misses. I started carrying a speedload right the next day, and have now traded for a Ruger P89 15+1. When I go downtown, I carry an extra mag.