So the other night, I dreamed that hubby and I were awakened by the beam of a searchlight shining through the bedroom window. Upon further investigation, it appeared that there was some kind of manhunt going on the neighborhood. There were badged ninjas and a couple helicopters scouring this little patch of suburb. So we did what any reasonable person would do-we got dressed, armed, and topped up our shotguns. No, we didn’t go join the hunt. We just wanted to be prepared in case said evil-doer decided the sliding glass door on the back of our house was awfully inviting compared to the welcoming party that was seeking him out. Besides, there was far too much activity to sleep through anyway.
So there we sat. And waited. Eventually the sound faded away and the decision was made to attempt to claim a few precious hours of sleep before the sun came up. We figured evil dude must have been picked up anyway but double checked the doors just for good measure.
Morning came at its usual time, far too soon after dosing off. We lamented the lack of sleep but decided there was too much to be done to stay in bed. Sufficient amounts of coffee were consumed, and we went about our business.
A friend from work was meeting me at the house so we could walk to some class that we were taking together. (This is a friend that I’ve never really hung out with outside of work. Not that I wouldn’t; we just haven’t. I’ve no idea what kind of class we had signed up to take or why we were planning to walk there.) And just in case the cavalry hadn’t picked up our choirboy from the night before, I threw my trusty snubbie in my pocket as a back-up to the FN on my belt. (I can only assume this class was not being held at one of the local schools where they have the magical firearms force-fields.)
My friend arrived right on time, and we set out for class. It was a lovely day so we decided to detour through the woods (that don’t really exist) behind my house. You know, because evil dude’s would never be hiding in the woods had they been able to give the ninjas the slip.
You see it coming, right?
Of course evil dude is holed up in a hollowed out tree and can’t over come the urge to accost a couple of ladies walking in the woods. I hear Tom Givens’ voice in my head. “ONE!” My left hand plants on my chest, my right takes a firing grip on my pistol. “TWO!” I clear leather. Before I’ve made a conscious effort, I’m in a good two handed grip with the gun extended into my line of sight.
I should have a perfect sight picture.
I should be putting 2 rounds of .45 into dude right now.
Except, there are no sights. I’m looking straight down the frame. I can see the gleaming brass of the top round in the magazine.
Oh shit! My slide is still in my holster! I’d apparently left the take-down lever flipped down.
I slam it back into the holster hoping everything lines up. Of course this just happens to be the moment dude’s revolver comes into view. It’s a K-frame 38 Special. I can’t tell whether it’s an M&P or a Model 10. And for some reason, that actually mattered to me in the dream.
He cocks the hammer. (Dude, that’s a double action. So unnecessary.)
I use my left hand to stabilize my slide while drawing the FN again. I don’t know why I didn’t just grab my snub, but the thought didn’t even cross my mind.
He pulls the trigger.
And the barrel falls off his gun.
Meanwhile I have successfully reassembled my gun and flipped the lever back up. I proceed to shoot dude, who is still pointing the barrel-less revolver, until he falls down. After retrieving the broken revolver (Ah! Model 10, made in Brazil!), my friend and I head on our way.
Not even a phone call to let anyone know that their wayward fugitive was likely approaching room temperature, but we made it to class on time. And then I woke up.
I suppose I am glad that my subconscious mind didn’t clam up and panic in the face of catastrophic failure, but now I am compulsively checking my take-down lever before holstering my gun.