As a gun owner, do you genuinely feel safer with a firearm?

Once upon a time a guy was working for me. Seemed nice enough, had a criminal history but was cleaned up, hard worker, just gotten engaged...

And then he started to get sketchy. Showing up late, excuses, not showing up. Finally just stopped showing up at all, after I'd lent him part of a paycheck in advance because the difficulties were supposedly because his truck was broke- it'd broken down twice prior to the irregularities in his attendance, so it seemed plausible. Just disappeared, didn't answer his phone, nothing.

Two weeks later, he shows up at my home out in the countryside, obviously tweaking like crazy, at nine at night, and pounds on my door begging me to "help him out". I was living alone in a half of an old farmhouse, about fifteen miles outside town and a quarter mile from the nextdoor neighbors. Random people don't show up to farmhouses in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night. Especially not univited.

I say I have no money on me (I seriously had ten bucks in my wallet that day), and can't help him. I do NOT open my door.

I don't know if everyone reading this has ever dealt with a raccoon in a trap, but they seem cute and scared and quiet like a cat... until a stick or anything else gets within their reach, whereupon they explode into a frenzy of hate and teeth in an instant. This guy was giving me that vibe, and I was acutely aware there was just an old, wood-and-glass single-pane door between the two of us.

He frothed and ranted, then abruptly switched tactics and kept acting like he couldn't hear my response, motioning for me to come outside because "I need to talk to you, just give me a minute, I need to talk to you."

I said to myself enough was enough, drew the CZ P-07 I'd picked up off my nightstand and holstered before answering the door, flipped the EYE MELTER light on, shone it in his face, and told him to go away about as forcefully as my quavering voice could manage.

There was ranting, there was pleading, and he started pounding on the door, rattling the panes in their glazing. All it would've needed was a good direct kick to bust through the glass and get to the lock, and I knew it.

Gun in one hand, I backed away and got my phone out, and called the police while adrenaline dumped into me. It felt like I was driving down a gravel road when I was simply standing inside my front door, I could barely manage to dial, and I was having trouble breathing normally or speaking when the operator picked up.

He shouted "this is bullshit!" and kept pounding, while I turned off my porch light on him and walked up my hall stairs, figuring if he did finally punch through the door and break his way in, I would be able to fend him off as he tried to climb them to get at me.

Fortunately, he left, the cops showed up about fifteen minutes later, and I never heard from him again.

The CZ in hand that night absolutely made me feel safer.

Source: https://www.quora.com/As-a-gun-owner-do-you-genuinely-feel-safer-with-a-firearm


Neteller here: www..com.ng

You come here and post American dingy dong but you want us to understand. Koyemi

I get the feeling @ poster.

He would have probably charged at you if not for the gun pointing at him.

He must have been into drugs...

With the metal in your hands, it is normal to feel safe in a relative sense though.