This post is in honor of the letter “S” and part of Jenny Matlock’s Alphabet Thursday. For more serendipitous “S” posts, please click here http://jennymatlock.blogspot.com/
For the beginning of this story, please click the “She Builds” tab.
After I talked to my attorney, I went to a gun store. A young man asked me what he could do for me.
â€œI am afraid of my contractor and if he shows up to â€œtalkâ€ to me, I want to be ready to shoot him if I have to. I am sick of hotels and don’t want to stay in one anymore. I want to live in my own home.â€
I think I rambled on for a few more minutes, muttering to myself like the crazy person I was.
He laughed and called over an older guy in the store, who also laughed. I was afraid they weren’t going to sell me a gun, but then the older man said, â€œWe’ll fix you up, little sister, just come with me. I followed him down to the basement where there was a full blown gun range, the kind you see on cop shows. The younger guy followed us with about five pistols. He loaded one up and handed it to me with a pair of ear plugs. I shot two rounds through each of the guns. The older guy said, â€œWhich one feels the most comfortable in your hand?â€ I pointed to one of the pistols and they both got huge grins on their faces.
â€œI knew you wouldn’t pick a girly gun,â€ the older guy said, putting his arm around me and smiling. We went back upstairs and a little paperwork and a swipe of my credit card and I walked out of there with big nasty looking handgun and two boxes of shells. I walked out of the store, got in my truck, and started shaking. Who was I kidding? I could never shoot a gun at anyone, even Dick.
I called a friend and asked him if he would help me install locks. He agreed and we met at Home Depot and bought a half dozen dead bolt locksets. It took a few hours to install them, but when he left I had this absolutely amazing feeling of accomplishment. This was MY house, not his and he couldn’t get in anymore and leave all the windows and doors open or threaten me. I could sleep soundly knowing he was locked out. I put the handgun up on a tall shelf in the storage room and the bullets in a box in another room and forgot about it.
The next morning at work, my cell phone rang showing Dick’s number on the caller id. I let it go to voicemail. A few minutes later, the receptionist came in, â€œDick’s on line 2.â€
I told her to just send him to my voicemail and to do the same thing every time he called. Later in the morning, he showed up at the front desk, the receptionist told him I was in a meeting.
When I told my attorney, he had showed up at the office he called Dick and told him that if he didn’t stay away from me we’d seek a restraining order.
It was onâ€¦
To be continued…