Today, I pulled into a gas station to fill the tank of my F-150. For those unfamiliar, the F-150 is a rather large vehicle. Mine has a crew cab, the largest option Ford offers. As a result, the gas tank is located well to the rear of the front bumper, so when filling the tank, the front of the truck needs to be a good ways into the filling lane.
As I was pulling in, a gentleman in a BMW decided to pull into the same lane from the opposite direction. When he saw that I required extra space, he stopped and gave a common, but obscene gesture to me, as he had to select a different pump in the nearly empty gas station; no doubt a horrific burden.
Now, I am from New York. City. Every instinct I have urged me to respond in the oh-so polite manner for which we Knickerbockers are known, namely shouting expletives whilst gesticulating inappropriately. If such behavior led to a fight, well, so be it. I am from New York and I drive a man's vehicle while this fellow clearly was not a New Yorker (his use of the digit in question was noticeably unfluent) and drove a fancy automobile.
Yet I did not react at all. Not so much as a frown. Am I losing my edge after nearly 5 years away from Manhattan? Have I gone soft? No. I carry a gun. I recognize that carrying comes with enormous responsibilities, including the responsibility not to be provoked by nonsense that threatens no one.
The anti-gunners would have you believe that the mere presence of a gun in this situation would result in a dead guy in a BMW, as road rage would have taken over my mind, driving my hand to my pistol when our friend in the Beamer dared to insult me. Instead, the opposite happened. Rather than engage in my natural instinct to speak ill of the BMW-driver's mother, I did nothing. I was polite, even.
It seems the presence of a gun suppressed the very rage anti-human rights campaigners claim a gun exacerbates. Am I alone? I doubt it.