Ten years ago I would have engaged that person in an honest debate over the justifiable uses a citizen has to protect himself, his home and those in his care. Not anymore.
I've seen quips said in innocence show up at HR hearings to cost a worker his job. I now live in a smaller suburban community, and our pyschiatrist's office is on the second floor, hidden in the rear of the building--tongues will wag for people seeking help.
In short, the modern trend is to believe that information, any information, should be full, immediate and surrendered on demand like how a plump housewife grabs a tabloid magazine. In truth, I don't care what you know about me, or what you don't know. Your nosy-nanny problems don't concern me.
I even answer our land-line "Atzomatti's Pizza."
If someone asks me why I carry any item, from a knife to a flashlight to a spare hankerchief, I proffer the same old biker snear I heard in the 1960s:
"Why do you want to know, are you writing a book?"