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Screaming at Inanimate Objects: Self-Control?

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January 1, 1970
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It was a Tuesday, like many others. I'd dropped the kids off at school and made my way to the local coffee shop to pick up my favorite soy half-caf no whip lightly sweetened caramel spiced latte when I saw it. A gun. It was on the hip of this guy...I'd seen him around a time or two, he didn't cause any trouble, usually. But this time, there was a loaded handgun on his hip. I knew it was loaded, because I could see the clip in the handle.Of all places a coffee shop. Why? Why did this man need to bring a weapon of war into this peaceful, coffee shop? Yes, our state allows open carry, but ugh, I couldn't disagree with it more than I already do. Having these guns out in plain sight for everyone to see...we get it, guy, you've got a tiny dick.I couldn't believe it and immediately, I confronted him."WHAT KIND OF ASSHOLE BRINGS A GUN TO A COFFEE HOUSE??? CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE RISKING EVERYONE'S LIFE BY HAVING THAT WEAPON OF WAR IN HERE?!"Shocked, as I'd intended, the man looked at me crossways, I could tell he wanted to unholster his weapon and let lose in what would surely be praised as a "defensive" use of his firearm against me. Another excuse to be violent. It didn't matter that he'd completed his purchase and was on the way out when I confronted him. I t

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