Many years ago, I was in New Jersey. I was due to report for a contract engineering job the next morning and was spending the night at a cheap motel.
At two o'clock in the morning someone started pounding on my door, waking me from a sound sleep. A cautious man, I answered the door with my pistol against my right leg. There were two drunk ladies standing there.
They looked at me and noticed the gun, I'm sure.They both were smiling and in a good mood. One of them spoke up.
"Hi. Is John here?"
"No one here by that name."
She waved a hand toward a bar which lay just across the parking lot behind her.
"We met a guy at the bar who invited us to his room; Room 22." She pointed to the number on the door. "See, Room 22?"
Her logic was unassailable, I'm sure, to her. To me, it merely meant a delay in getting back to sleep.
Her friend said, "Hey, honey, maybe you want to party?"
"No, thanks. Y'all have a nice night. Hope you find your friend." I gently closed the door and went back to bed. I had no trouble going back to sleep. The next day I reported to the new job. One of the permanent guys I went to work for was very interested when I told him about the two visitors of the previous night. He was from New York City, very tough and street-wise, a very good dude. He told me what had probably happened.
"First possibility is, some guy they met just wanted to get rid of them and gave them a room number off the top of his head. The second and more likely scenario is this. It's common for a little gang of crooks to target strangers in any town. They have a motel clerk that keeps an eye out for someone that has money; cash, that is. The clerk tells a friend. The friend has a chick, or sometimes two(for comfort's sake) go to the guy's room and try any means to get inside. Once inside, they let the muscle guy in, who either robs the stranger or pretends to be a cop from vice, whatever. The bottom line is, you get robbed."
It seems that things tend to gravitate to me. Things seem to happen when I'm around. Some good, some bad. Of course, these days it's very dangerous to travel with a gun. Most of the northeast has mandatory prison time for being caught with an unregistered gun. Of course, you can't register a gun in ten different states before you leave home, so your right to protect your own life or your family's is effectively taken away. Then we as a nation wonder why large sections of cities and towns are unsafe to walk the streets in. Can't hinder the criminals from preying upon the straight people, now can we?
Here at my place in the green retreat we faced a mountain lion with an aggressive personality. Of course I know now, just like I knew that night in New Jersey, that all predators don't growl and have fangs and claws. Some are pretty and friendly, with long hair and mini-skirts. I guess that virtue is sometimes its own reward.
From the mountains, I'm CE Wills
At two o'clock in the morning someone started pounding on my door, waking me from a sound sleep. A cautious man, I answered the door with my pistol against my right leg. There were two drunk ladies standing there.
They looked at me and noticed the gun, I'm sure.They both were smiling and in a good mood. One of them spoke up.
"Hi. Is John here?"
"No one here by that name."
She waved a hand toward a bar which lay just across the parking lot behind her.
"We met a guy at the bar who invited us to his room; Room 22." She pointed to the number on the door. "See, Room 22?"
Her logic was unassailable, I'm sure, to her. To me, it merely meant a delay in getting back to sleep.
Her friend said, "Hey, honey, maybe you want to party?"
"No, thanks. Y'all have a nice night. Hope you find your friend." I gently closed the door and went back to bed. I had no trouble going back to sleep. The next day I reported to the new job. One of the permanent guys I went to work for was very interested when I told him about the two visitors of the previous night. He was from New York City, very tough and street-wise, a very good dude. He told me what had probably happened.
"First possibility is, some guy they met just wanted to get rid of them and gave them a room number off the top of his head. The second and more likely scenario is this. It's common for a little gang of crooks to target strangers in any town. They have a motel clerk that keeps an eye out for someone that has money; cash, that is. The clerk tells a friend. The friend has a chick, or sometimes two(for comfort's sake) go to the guy's room and try any means to get inside. Once inside, they let the muscle guy in, who either robs the stranger or pretends to be a cop from vice, whatever. The bottom line is, you get robbed."
It seems that things tend to gravitate to me. Things seem to happen when I'm around. Some good, some bad. Of course, these days it's very dangerous to travel with a gun. Most of the northeast has mandatory prison time for being caught with an unregistered gun. Of course, you can't register a gun in ten different states before you leave home, so your right to protect your own life or your family's is effectively taken away. Then we as a nation wonder why large sections of cities and towns are unsafe to walk the streets in. Can't hinder the criminals from preying upon the straight people, now can we?
Here at my place in the green retreat we faced a mountain lion with an aggressive personality. Of course I know now, just like I knew that night in New Jersey, that all predators don't growl and have fangs and claws. Some are pretty and friendly, with long hair and mini-skirts. I guess that virtue is sometimes its own reward.
From the mountains, I'm CE Wills
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