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I recently screwed up at a class I was teaching (NRA Basic Pistol - Instructor) due to me being outside for 7hrs in 26*F weather and forgot to do a lesson + test for a class. The end result is, I met with each of the participants individually on my own dime close to or in their hometowns as this was my screwup. One day I was in Long Island, another day Westchester, another day Dutchess, and another day out near Montclair NJ.
I meet my associate at a D-Dunots in Clinton NJ. It rained all day (couple Tuesdays ago), and took me 1hr 49min from the Bronx to Clinton, which is under other conditions a 45min drive. This was at 6pm on a cold, wet overcast day.This does not faze me, I screwed up, and am content and happy to have a chance to make it right by my "customer"
We are staged near the front doors where we can both see the door. It is my usual habit to check out everyone coming thru a door when I am in a public place like a DD. Yes, it gets tiring, but no I never tire of doing it as I now do so reflexively.
One lady in particular, maybe because I could clearly see she was of child bearing age, and based on the curvature of her spine, and the flush swell of her ass and full curvaceous busom I determined that she indeed had already brought a child in this world...maybe my eyes lingered on her breath-takingly tight blue jeans a couple of seconds too long. She is of mixed descent - Irish /Persian? German/Indian? Whatever she is, I am royally pissed at karma that I didn't have her in my life 30 years ago when I could've given her the best 40 seconds of my life...
Yes, that must have been what happened, because a few seconds later as I was tracking her sashay down the rope & stanchion to the counter all slack jawed and drooling a dude holding a 2yr old girl in his hand is looking at me, scowling hard. I gave him my best non-commital look, looked him over, and got back to finishing up with my associate.
He had some quiet words with her - they are apparently together, she went back to the car, the counter people start filling their large order ( a party maybe? Could I possibly score an invite to drool and ogle over his lady some more?). In a while he puts the 2yr old toddler down, and she TEARS OFF down the aisle and makes it near the door and around the counter to where the folks are working. A swinging door stops her. He gets to her, snatches her up, while balefully glaring at me like the child molester he knows I am.
Still working with my client/associate, I see two guys - white, neatly dressed with shirts/ties under over coats (pants too!) approaching. They are cops, I know this. On approach to the door one opens, steps in and sweeps the room with his eyes and we exchange glances. As the other dude is coming in the store, he sees me standing up, and very nicely holds the door for my two year old daughter (note, I only have sons, none are two years old, none of them cross dress, none are midgets, and none were with me that day), she tears off down the sidewalk, so like any good dad would do, I am out the door and on her like a ammo hoarder on greentip @ Walmart after the ATF ruling. Even so, despite my Olympian like efforts, I am only able to catch up with the 35lb bundle of energy after 18-22ft down the sidewalk. I happen to grab her when she is 2-3 steps away from the curb and just out the path of a old caddy being captained by someone who was classmates with Teddy Roosevelt.
I hold the kid at arms length by the arms and get her back in the store. The (I assume) child's dad initially gave me a look of irritation for having my hands on his precious baby. He was mostly completely unaware she made it outside until he saw me with her coming back inside. A few of the old farts who (apparently) meet there regularly to shoot the breeze are patting me on the back, calling me a hero.
I am not white, the cop /dude later tells me he saw the kid approach the door, saw me looking at her like a hawk, and thought she was my kid. I was a good 14-15ft away from that door, and he gallantly held the door for a 2yr old with her "assumed father" some 4-5 strides away, seated, behind a table. Also I have NO IDEA why they'd think someone with a mug as horrid as mine could ever create such a cute as a button baby girl.
Now I remember, the 1st time the kid took off to near behind the counter, I asked my dude - "Adam, do you have kids?" He reminded me he had none. I told him I had a bunch, and they were FAST little ****ers. (my exact words). When I returned to my seat he asked me how in the heck did I know the kid was gonna bolt, and how did I get up so fast from behind the table and past a few other patrons and past the two dudes by the door and down the strip to grab the kid?
Who knows what would've happened had I been proficient at my job a few Sundays ago at the range? No trip to NJ. Would I have read about a car crushing a little 2yr old kid? Glad I didn't.
The dad thanked me when what happened was explained to him. I hung around for a bit hoping momma would come back in the store and squeeze me in all the right places, but that ever only happens in mah dreams.
I meet my associate at a D-Dunots in Clinton NJ. It rained all day (couple Tuesdays ago), and took me 1hr 49min from the Bronx to Clinton, which is under other conditions a 45min drive. This was at 6pm on a cold, wet overcast day.This does not faze me, I screwed up, and am content and happy to have a chance to make it right by my "customer"
We are staged near the front doors where we can both see the door. It is my usual habit to check out everyone coming thru a door when I am in a public place like a DD. Yes, it gets tiring, but no I never tire of doing it as I now do so reflexively.
One lady in particular, maybe because I could clearly see she was of child bearing age, and based on the curvature of her spine, and the flush swell of her ass and full curvaceous busom I determined that she indeed had already brought a child in this world...maybe my eyes lingered on her breath-takingly tight blue jeans a couple of seconds too long. She is of mixed descent - Irish /Persian? German/Indian? Whatever she is, I am royally pissed at karma that I didn't have her in my life 30 years ago when I could've given her the best 40 seconds of my life...
Yes, that must have been what happened, because a few seconds later as I was tracking her sashay down the rope & stanchion to the counter all slack jawed and drooling a dude holding a 2yr old girl in his hand is looking at me, scowling hard. I gave him my best non-commital look, looked him over, and got back to finishing up with my associate.
He had some quiet words with her - they are apparently together, she went back to the car, the counter people start filling their large order ( a party maybe? Could I possibly score an invite to drool and ogle over his lady some more?). In a while he puts the 2yr old toddler down, and she TEARS OFF down the aisle and makes it near the door and around the counter to where the folks are working. A swinging door stops her. He gets to her, snatches her up, while balefully glaring at me like the child molester he knows I am.
Still working with my client/associate, I see two guys - white, neatly dressed with shirts/ties under over coats (pants too!) approaching. They are cops, I know this. On approach to the door one opens, steps in and sweeps the room with his eyes and we exchange glances. As the other dude is coming in the store, he sees me standing up, and very nicely holds the door for my two year old daughter (note, I only have sons, none are two years old, none of them cross dress, none are midgets, and none were with me that day), she tears off down the sidewalk, so like any good dad would do, I am out the door and on her like a ammo hoarder on greentip @ Walmart after the ATF ruling. Even so, despite my Olympian like efforts, I am only able to catch up with the 35lb bundle of energy after 18-22ft down the sidewalk. I happen to grab her when she is 2-3 steps away from the curb and just out the path of a old caddy being captained by someone who was classmates with Teddy Roosevelt.
I hold the kid at arms length by the arms and get her back in the store. The (I assume) child's dad initially gave me a look of irritation for having my hands on his precious baby. He was mostly completely unaware she made it outside until he saw me with her coming back inside. A few of the old farts who (apparently) meet there regularly to shoot the breeze are patting me on the back, calling me a hero.
I am not white, the cop /dude later tells me he saw the kid approach the door, saw me looking at her like a hawk, and thought she was my kid. I was a good 14-15ft away from that door, and he gallantly held the door for a 2yr old with her "assumed father" some 4-5 strides away, seated, behind a table. Also I have NO IDEA why they'd think someone with a mug as horrid as mine could ever create such a cute as a button baby girl.
Now I remember, the 1st time the kid took off to near behind the counter, I asked my dude - "Adam, do you have kids?" He reminded me he had none. I told him I had a bunch, and they were FAST little ****ers. (my exact words). When I returned to my seat he asked me how in the heck did I know the kid was gonna bolt, and how did I get up so fast from behind the table and past a few other patrons and past the two dudes by the door and down the strip to grab the kid?
Who knows what would've happened had I been proficient at my job a few Sundays ago at the range? No trip to NJ. Would I have read about a car crushing a little 2yr old kid? Glad I didn't.
The dad thanked me when what happened was explained to him. I hung around for a bit hoping momma would come back in the store and squeeze me in all the right places, but that ever only happens in mah dreams.
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