|Typical night in Arizona bars|
Gilbert, Arizona...A guy walks into a bar and asks the bartender for a shot and a beer-the bartender replies, 'I can serve you the beer here, but you'll have to go in the back room for the shot.'
In complete surprise, the customer asks, 'Why can't I get a shot of whiskey with my beer here at the bar?
'Oh, you meant booze. You're in Arizona, man, and a shot here means guns, you know, those things that kill innocent people but nobody serious about their weaponry gives a shit. They call us gun nuts.'
The guy was flabbergasted and said, 'I'm from California and the gun laws there are very strict, so I've really never had a chance to use a gun."
The barkeep looked at him noticing he was very young, maybe not even 21, so he decided to give the man an education. 'Well, since we're still in the wild west here (chuckle-chuckle), all you need is a warm body to own a firearm.'
The guy unbuttoned his shirt to a hairless chest and began feeling around to make sure he qualified. Then he said, 'Okay, I'm good.'
The bartender wasn't even taken aback because real gun-huggers like him knew that the other side just needed to know how to love a gun more than a human life and they would cross over the line and become one of the gang. And this fellow looked like he really had possibilities. 'Interested in knowing more?'
'Sure,' replied the kid, and the two of them headed for the back room. 'Wow!' the amateur said with guns in his eyes. Glocks, Browning Hi Power, Smith & Wesson snub nose, Sig sauer, Walther, Beretta and the beloved AR-15 assault rifle. 'Where do I start?'
The barkeep said, I'm turning you over to the NRA instructor who was recently ordained by the one and only head gun nut, Wayne LaPierre.'
And there he was, in awe of all the wonderful guns and such a celebrity to show him how to use them. NRA's best said, 'Let's start with the pistols and progress up to the AR-15. Just pick up that Glock and see how it feels.'
The guy did, and he was shown how to fire it, almost putting a hole in the roof. They went on to the Wrather, where a window ended up being a target. With the Sig sauer, he grazed the head of the shooter standing next to him. After several more similar incidents, the NRA dude said, 'Believe you're 'bout ready for the AR-15."
The kid was elated and shook with joy as the assault rifle was handed to him. It took two-and-a-half minutes and he was declared ready to use his killing machine. The Californian who had never held a gun in his life turned toward the targets and started firing...and firing...and firing...and firing. His finger was stuck and the weapon swerved to the right in the action, taking out all the shooters on the range, then returning the other direction getting the NRA instructor.
The bartender apparently heard all the chatter and rushed into the range, followed by everyone in the bar. Bingo, he took them all out like Wyatt Earp, then just stood there. When the smoke cleared, he looked round and said, 'Damn, I love guns.'
And that's the moral of my story.
Thanks to E.J. Montini, Arizona Republic columnist for his article: "Cozy up to this Gilbert bar for a (gun)shot and a beer"
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