George Hill
Staff Alumnus
I wasn't going to mention this:
Sunday morning I was at a do it your own dang self car was with our "Big-Ass Van" which is what my wife calls her full sized conversion cruise liner sized Chevy. I was in the process of vacuming this beast out with one of the places monster sized shop vacs.
My level of awareness was down. Not lowered. Down. Scope was off. I was numbed by the fact I am in Salt Lake with its low crime rate and I have had little problem here compaired to other places I have been - so I was not even concerned. The machine was LOUD, and I couldn't hear the approach. My head was in the van and I could see the approach. I did notice the sensation of my wallet being yanked out of my back pocket. I spun to face a very large Tongan fella that looked 3 times as broad as myself and 3 inches taller. He said that I was going to let him borrow some cash. I said nothing at that point as he flipped through the wallet. In the front of the wallet - first thing you see is my CCW. He saw it. He looked up suddenly. He knew he was in trouble. I asked for the wallet back. He asked if I had a gun. I answered with Roshambo (a swift kick to his jewels) and a punch draw. I carry my PPK/S on my left side angled for a cross draw... in this case I punched open palmed into his chest with my right and drew left handed. I was much faster than I would have expected. My punch sent him backwards and the kick to the groin stunned him. When he hit his head on the curbing - well, it probably about knocked him out. He was on his back before the Walther was skinned, dazed and confused. I was able to ask again for my wallet over the barrel of the little gun, a little more convincingly than the first time. I told him to drop the wallet and crawl away. Which he did.
I know there are a lot of other ways I could have handled this... But my choice of actions seemed most prudent at the time. I went back home and had eggs and OJ.
Like I said - I didnt want to mention it as I will likely get a little singed from some light flaming because I didnt do things a certain way. Like call the police - hold the guy - or shoot the guy... All I wanted was 1. Get my wallet back - a trip to the DMV is something I wouldnt wish on someone I hate. And 2. Return to the warmth of my family.
#2 being my priority. Spending time talking to a Police Officer all morning wasnt what I wanted to be doing.
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"A fear of weapons is a sign of retarded sexual and emotional maturity." - Sigmund Freud
RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE
Sunday morning I was at a do it your own dang self car was with our "Big-Ass Van" which is what my wife calls her full sized conversion cruise liner sized Chevy. I was in the process of vacuming this beast out with one of the places monster sized shop vacs.
My level of awareness was down. Not lowered. Down. Scope was off. I was numbed by the fact I am in Salt Lake with its low crime rate and I have had little problem here compaired to other places I have been - so I was not even concerned. The machine was LOUD, and I couldn't hear the approach. My head was in the van and I could see the approach. I did notice the sensation of my wallet being yanked out of my back pocket. I spun to face a very large Tongan fella that looked 3 times as broad as myself and 3 inches taller. He said that I was going to let him borrow some cash. I said nothing at that point as he flipped through the wallet. In the front of the wallet - first thing you see is my CCW. He saw it. He looked up suddenly. He knew he was in trouble. I asked for the wallet back. He asked if I had a gun. I answered with Roshambo (a swift kick to his jewels) and a punch draw. I carry my PPK/S on my left side angled for a cross draw... in this case I punched open palmed into his chest with my right and drew left handed. I was much faster than I would have expected. My punch sent him backwards and the kick to the groin stunned him. When he hit his head on the curbing - well, it probably about knocked him out. He was on his back before the Walther was skinned, dazed and confused. I was able to ask again for my wallet over the barrel of the little gun, a little more convincingly than the first time. I told him to drop the wallet and crawl away. Which he did.
I know there are a lot of other ways I could have handled this... But my choice of actions seemed most prudent at the time. I went back home and had eggs and OJ.
Like I said - I didnt want to mention it as I will likely get a little singed from some light flaming because I didnt do things a certain way. Like call the police - hold the guy - or shoot the guy... All I wanted was 1. Get my wallet back - a trip to the DMV is something I wouldnt wish on someone I hate. And 2. Return to the warmth of my family.
#2 being my priority. Spending time talking to a Police Officer all morning wasnt what I wanted to be doing.
------------------
"A fear of weapons is a sign of retarded sexual and emotional maturity." - Sigmund Freud
RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE