Well allow me to share.
As most of you know, the hubs and I agreed to drive to Baltimore to help my bestie save money on her trip. We figured we could stop at the inner harbor there and maybe do a little sightseeing around DC on the way home. It was a beautiful day, we're in the car just outside of DC when the hubs has a meltdown. Pretty literally.
After asking for the million and second time what the hell was wrong, he looked at me with a pretty cute puppy dog face and said simply "I forgot to take my gun in the house."
|That's where it was. Lurking.|
Now if you don't own a gun you'll probably be staring open mouthed at the screen right now. But allow me to assure you all is well. The hubs has two guns, one that he carries with a concealed carry permit and another that he restored and has been trying to sell. His of course resides in a holster so it's pretty difficult to forget, but the other one?
Resting without ammunition in the dashboard of his spiffy magical Taurus that my daughter and I both refer to as Easter Bunny poop. It's that blue that reminds you of a color the Easter Bunny would poop out and it annoys him so yeah. Moving on though.....
We start brainstorming. Here is the conversation.
Hubs: "Maryland doesn't honor concealed permits and DC doesn't allow guns AT ALL."
Hubs: "Yeah. Shit."
Me: "So can't you put it in the trunk or something?"
Hubs: "That's concealed, you wanna go to prison?"
Me: "Why would they take ME to prison, wouldn't they just take you?"
Me: "I'd get you out. Eventually."
I won't bore you with any more of those particular details, but the conversation went on, and I suggested quite simply that we stop at a State Police Headquarters and ask them what to do. Which sounded like a lovely idea until I thought about us skipping into a State Police Headquarters telling them we've got a gun in the car and would like to know if they could keep it until we come back through. I think it was Fredericksburg, and that's when the images of Thelma and Louise started popping into my head.
That however is exactly what we decided to do since the hubs is a responsible gun owner. Really. For any law enforcement personnel reading this, HE IS! I promise.
So, we locked the car up and skipped into the State Police Headquarters which I might add was located on Hill Street. I kid you not. They don't wear blue though, which dashed that little mental video screen.
|This is what they do to speeders.|
We learned that State Troopers do not gunsit. Apparently the only way to get a State Trooper to take possession of your weapon is to commit a crime with it. I managed to not say anything that *I* might find amusing just in the nick of time when I recalled that law enforcement doesn't often share my sense of humor.
I did however ask permission to blog about him. I'm not sure if he was amused, honored or horrified.
Trooper Batten with the Fredericksburg State Police on Hill Street was a very nice man. Not that I'd say anything else about him because honestly, who knows what law enforcement and government officials do in their down time. I'm not willing to test that theory, but he really was a sweetheart. He suggested finding a place like a storage facility or somewhere with lockers so we could lock the gun up and return for it on the way home.
First stop. The bowling alley. I know, I know, but hey, they have lockers right? With locks? So yeah, we looked into it. Went in, told them we wanted to rent a locker and she pulled out the form and asked about preferences to which we replied none, then proceeded to tell us the rental was for an entire year. Again I kept my mouth shut instead of asking if she REALLY wanted to have a gun in a locker around the corner for an entire year. Needless to say with our financial situation a year long rental wasn't in our immediate future, although you might argue it's cheaper than bail.
Back to the car and more brainstorming. We stopped at a Gold's Gym only to be told that they don't rent lockers, you just have to have your own lock and it's yours. Well la-di-dah, who carries padlocks around with them?
More driving. We're already running late and at that time my bestie would be waiting in the train station at Baltimore for a half hour. Hubs declared he didn't want to stop anymore because he wasn't sure how safe Penn Station would be for her alone, so we wanted to hurry. A dilemma no?
I looked down at my feet which were comfortably slippered (no not the cow slippers, I'd never sacrifice one of those) but suggested we pick a mile marker, I'd stop to pee supposedly, slip the gun in my slipper and leave it there and we'd pick it up on the way back home. Made sense to me right? I mean how many people do YOU see wandering the side of the interstate looking for weapons hidden in slippers? It made perfect sense to me. We'd be gone three hours tops so it'd be safe there, make a u-ey on the way home, grab it and head back to the safety of permitted territory.
For SOME reason hubs didn't like that idea.
To make a long story, well not short, but a little bit less long, hubs had a brainstorm which was both legal (I think) and convenient so the drama was laid to rest and we went on our way. Yes, I'm refusing to tell you about the final outcome since well, we drove through Quantico, so our plans were written out on a sheet of notebook paper since I'm......well......a little paranoid about Marines, military bases and DC, and I'm not real sure what the statute of limitations is on coming up with creative methods for gun storage just outside the nation's capital.
Let's just say it was an interesting trip!