Wednesday, March 30, 2005

Bob, Booze and a Birthday Party


I received a phone call from Wheel Gun Bob one warm Saturday night asking if I might want to go shoot some stuff all to hell the next day.

Would I?

Damn right I would! Right after I clear it with the Cod Gal.

She said "sure" so I headed off to bed (re:went to pass out) to dream of bullets and explosions.

After a fitful night of sleep, I rose to those damn crows walking me up for the umpteenth day in a row. After making a mental note to look for some weapons-grade plutonium to deal with them, I headed downstairs to have a quick breakfast of cinnamon pop tarts and diet Mountain Dew. After that breakfast of champions, I packed up my weapons of choice for the day and headed on over to pick up WGB.

When I got there, it became apparent to me that WGB was feeling quite jolly during this fine day. After seeing the empty Bud cans strewn about, I figured out why. I'm quick like that. It's my keen grasp of the obvious.

WGB offered me a cold beer but with being the responsible one that would NEVER drink and drive, I declined. After WGB got done slapping me around, torturing me with jumper cables and (this is what ultimately made me crack) making me listen to liberal talk radio, I caved in and reluctantly agreed to have a beer with him. But, I didn't enjoy it!....or the 8 more after that.

(Ok, Ok. He never tortured me... or offered me a beer for that matter. What a cheap bastard, huh? I drank them all anyways.)

After hanging out a while waiting for him to get his weapons together, we came upon a dilemma. We had only 4 beers left and we had to get to the range so I could be back in time to heat the wax for the Cod Gal. So, we did what any responsible people would do, we took them with us. I mean, what's the worst that can happen when you combine alcohol and firearms? The ATF does it all the time. Right? Anyone?

Well, instead of the range we ended up at a favorite gravel/sand pit that we have been to several times over the years. It's great because there are always ample targets kicking around. Things like doors, washing machines, furniture, and my personal favorite....fire extinguishers.

One of our favorite things to do is set up some clay pigeons against one of the hills and shoot at those. It works out well because they smash to pieces when you hit them, they are easy to see for you blind bastards out there (I'm not naming names but his initials are Wheel Gun Bob) and they are bio-degradable. And that means something to me...because I care.

Well, after a few uneventful rounds.....and also shooting some stuff (insert rim shot here) we decided that the door that we saw on the way in would be a perfect thing to shoot at. Then again, what isn't?

We quickly set the door up and then had at it with the Bface's .44mag and my .40 caliber Glock. Suffering from A.D.D. as we do, we quickly became quite bored. That was, until I came up with a plan. The door had one of those decorative patterns over the glass that was basically just a series of wooden x's. But it was those same x's that were the key....they held the clay pigeons in between them perfectly! We could now set up anywhere from 10-15 in the door and shoot them out resulting in a much more spectacular result than what we were getting when they were on the ground.

It was going great until this one time when it was Bob's turn.

Remember those 4 beers? They're still around.

Now, it was Bob's turn to set up the clay pigeons in the door so I sat back on the tailgate of my truck and waited for him to finish. As I was waiting, I saw all the empties in the back of my truck (that we so responsibly took from his house with the FULL intention of placing them at the nearest recycling center) and remembered that we had some left. So, after cracking one, having a sip or two, I noticed that Bob was getting a little bit wound up.

The whole time that he was setting up the door it went like this....

WGB- I love this door....I LOVE THIS DOOR!!

ME- Yeah

WGB- I mean, I REALLY LOVE THIS FUCKING DOOR!!

Me- yeah, it's cool

WGB- this FUCK-ING door RULES!!

Me-yeah, it kicks ass...let's go

WGB- I fucking love it!!

Me-I know (then picking up my beer, bringing it towards my mouth....seeing a cop 30 feet away from me looking right at me with his arms folded....then I, all in one motion, immediately pretend that I am stretching and dropping the beer in the truck behind me) yeah, it's great Bob, let's go

WGB- (the cop is now standing beside motioning for me to be quiet while looking at Bob who is facing away from us) I....LOVE....THIS.....FUCKING.....DOOR!!

Me- yeah, ok Bob, let's shoot

WGB- ok, one more clay pigeon to set up....hey, open me a beer?

Me- I don't think that's such a good idea

WGB- Why not?

Me- Bob, let's go...now!

WGB- Ok, but I LOVE THIS (he turns around).......fuck......ing.........door?

Needless to say, WGB was a bit surprised to see Mr. Man standing beside me. Hell, so was I. You need to remember that we were at one end of a WIDE OPEN pit and he had to walk about half a mile in a open area just to get up next to us. How he did that without us noticing, I'll never know. Especially since he was about 6'5" and 250lbs and dressed in black. It's probably my keen grasp of the obvious working again, I guess.

Anyways, he starts questioning us....

Cop- doing a little shooting?

Me- yes, sir...target shooting
Bob- well, mhjsdileths...I mean, mmndgetsm....
Me-(cutting him off) yes sir, just a little shooting

Cop- (pointing at the beers and the pile of beer cans in my truck) How many of those have you had today?

WGB- Well, we wmngshte...
Me-(cutting him off and giving him an "I'll talk" look) There were only four left in the 12 pack, so we figured we would just finish them off. Those other cans were from last night, sir.

Cop- (eyeing WGB suspiciously) Who is driving here today?

Me-(grabbing my driver's license) I am sir. Would you like to see my registration as well?

Cop- No, it's ok. We just had a few complaints about the noise.

Me- we shoot in here all the time

Cop- yeah, well, it's not legal...I know everyone does it, though. Just don't do it on weekends when everyone is home, ok?

Me- Yes Sir! No problem at all.

Cop- (leaning in towards me and gesturing towards WGB) Is he ok?

Me- Yeah, he's just a little slow, that's all. I try to get him out on the weekends.

Cop- Well get out of here and keep an eye on him...and no more beers, ok?

Me- Yes, sir! Let's go Bob!

And that was that. He waited for us to leave the pit but then followed us when we didn't head towards home. We had no intentions of going home. It was a beautiful day and Bob said that we still had some time to kill so we should go scope some Betties at the beach. Who am I to disagree?

Of course, we ended up in a bar down there. He kept saying to me "One more drink, I'm buying!" every time that I said that we should get going. Once again, who am I to say no to an elder? The one thing that I didn't notice (might have had something to do with the drinks) was that he kept looking at his watch. Another round over here, barkeep!

Anyways, he finally dragged me out of there, propped me up in the truck and we headed for home. I kept saying "Man, the wife is going to be pissed" and he kept saying "No, she'll be fine."

Famous last words...

Well, when I got home I found out why he wasn't concerned. The wife had planned a surprise (a first for me) birthday party for me. I couldn't have been more surprised. Especially when you think about how PISSED that she would have been if we had called her from the police station a few hours earlier.


6 Comments:

At 4:55 PM, Blogger Erin Nicole said...

...sounds like you had a good one...

...also sounds like a scene once played out by myself and a few others in doniphan, mo...

happy birthday...and all that good stuff.

 
At 10:11 PM, Blogger Wheel Gun Bob said...

I hid my beer behind the tire of the truck while we were shooting just incase someone came along. Colin made fun of me for it - called me a "skirt."

 
At 11:28 PM, Blogger The Cod God said...

You should have chugged it, then threw the empty at the cop all the while screaming "eat cold aluminum, copper!"

Then you should have stripped naked and ran off into the woods while muttering "Say hello to my little friend."

 
At 1:38 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

"insert rim shot here"

Wouldn't "insert rim fire here" be a bit more appropriate? I mean that was a really baaad joke.

also, this isn't Bface, I know I stole his commenting style there, but it fits what I wanted to say.

 
At 2:10 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Didn't mean to be an ass there. Next time I'll just shut up.

 
At 10:18 AM, Blogger Maryka said...

So let me get this straight. Cod Gal says to WGB, "can you get CG out of the house so I can surprise him for his birthday?" and WGB decides that the best way to do that is:

1. go shooting and then
2. go drinking

Do I have that about right then?

 

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