ARMED

I've only felt the need to protect myself from fellow humans with a firearm twice in my life. The first time was in the early 90's. I lived on E.7th and Ave. C in NY's East Village. This was the height of the crack epidemic and my slum lords had seen fit to rent out any empty apartments to the city, who in their infinite wisdom moved lowlifes into the building. My next door neighbors were a lovely threesome consisting of two local debutantes and a gentleman friend. The debs were identical twins. One was sweet as pie, while the other would slit your throat for a vial. I never knew which I would pass on the stairs. I'd mumble "Hi." and either receive an icy stare or a "Hello good looking." The guy was pure drug addict/pimp. I knocked on their apt. one time to ask them not to slam the heavy metal door so much. "Gofuckyerself." I got in return. The guy had a nasty little .38 Det. Special in his pajama bottoms. The next time I went upstate I borrowed an old 12 ga. double barrel and two shells from my brother, which i kept loaded at the door at all times. I just hoped I hit the mean twin with the second shot.
  The next time I armed myself I had a pistol permit and a big .357 mag. My mobbed-up upstate Sicilian neighbors and I were in the middle of a range war involving the building of a chain link fence 2 feet off my house. When the fat Italian fence crew showed up to dig the post holes I stood my ground. "Big man." they taunted, laughing in my face. "Big bellys." I countered, staring them down. That was the best I could come up with. "Ever heard of the SOPRANOS?" They weren't fazed, grabbing their shovels and line. It was then I opened my coat revealing the wheel gun. Not to be out done with pop culture references. "Ever heard of DELIVERANCE?" I asked. I don't think they had. But the gun made my point. They put the shovels back in the truck and drove away.

   I mention both of these instances because during deer season I am never unarmed during waking hours. When I'm in the woods I have my bow. When I'm at home or in the car I strap on the 9mm. This morning I left the house and quickly realized I hadn't put the clip in the gun. I turned around and slid in the clip. There's nothing more useless than an empty gun. I was on my way to The Thruway Market to buy wool pants. Just as I crested a hill outside of Bullville I saw cars pulled over on both sides of the road. To my left was a big doe with two broken back legs struggling to get up the bank. I pulled over. A sweet little old lady had struck the deer and was shaking next to a man in a pick up. I told them i was armed and asked if they wanted me to dispatch the poor deer. "Yes....please." the woman said, almost tearing up. I slid a shell into the chamber and killed the deer.
  45 mins. later the police finally showed up. By this time I was already gutting the deer. The cop saw my gun and stopped dead in his tracks. "You have a permit for that?" he asked, hand on his. I told him I did and after a short lecture about not shooting next to the road, and the vocal gratitude of the lady and all gathered, the cop backed off. In the end he gave me a copy of the accident report and helped me load the doe into the trunk of my Neon. It's not exactly a hunting story but good news for the CLGM congregation. We got meat. On the line of the accident report reserved for operator of vehicle number two it states simply in capital letters: DEER.