Thoughts On Concealed Carry

Concealed carry is a pain in the behind. There's about a jillion steps needed to start carrying, and that's in a free state, like Florida. First, you need to decide on a firearm. Luckily, I had a good idea of what I wanted, so I actually was able to figure out what I wanted rather quickly. I did have to buy a gun, holster, and a few boxes of bullets, and find out halfway through the first box that that gun wasn't for me. I sold it, along with a box of bullets and a holster, and only lost about $150. On my budget, that hurt. However, I settled on a j-frame next, and fell in love. Next, you need to find a range. I'm not lucky enough to have family with a lot of land close by, so I spend about 200 dollars a year in memberships. Then there's scheduling the concealed carry course. $60. then you have to make an appointment with the state licensing office. $117, and a few weeks waiting. Then you wait on your card. A few more weeks. Then you practice. Ammo costs add up quickly. Not to mention gas to and from your range, which isn't exactly around the corner. Also, you have to modify the way you dress and carry yourself, so as not to display your weapon, and those few extra pounds seem like TONS extra weight to get used to carrying around.

But eventually you DO get used to carrying the weight. And after a few weeks, you start planning bullets and gas into your budget. Carrying begins to seem less like a chore, and more normal. More mundane.

And then you have that experience. I'm not talking the big, earth shattering experience where you have to defend your life. Hopefully that never happens to any of us. I'm talking about walking in that parking garage, or through the bad area of town. You're just trying to mind your own business and get to your car. But there's that guy walking your way, rather quickly. You pick up your pace, and grip the firearm in your pocket. You get to your car, open the door, and step in. The guy continues on, oblivious to your discomfort. You wipe your sweaty palms on your pants legs, and watch the man continue by in your rear view, and you start your car. Maybe you misread the situation. Maybe your instincts were wrong. Maybe your mind was just playing tricks on you.

But you offer a silent prayer of thanks for being kept safe, and now all the money and training doesn't seem such an inconvenience. Because you hope it always ends like this, but you can't be sure.