I am 15 years divorced and 67 next month, by way of explaining the title.
I was visiting friends when Mr. Gun offered to show me some of his collection. “Sure. Love to see it.”:rolleyes: Every now and then I try to be nice.
He handed me a small .22 pistol. My heart pounded, I practically drooled over it. I thought the pistol was beautiful; I liked the way it felt in my hand; I liked the way my hand looked while holding it. I was in love.
He produced a few other handguns, but they were all boring. Finally, a 9mm police special appeared. OMG:eek: It fit my hand like a glove. The sound of the clip going in and out was a serenade. I.Wanted.It.
There I was, holding a lethal weapon with the same oooh oooh caressing touch generally reserved for puppies.
I scared myself.