Late Saturday night, Jerry and Jennifer, IdaHog and The Missus, Drew, Bravado, Knightstar, Survivor, Shaggi, Blade Babe, Firehorse, Buy Brown, Dark Hog, and a few others, were leaning over Jerry's car in the Day's Inn Parking lot while he drew a map and gave a description of how to find the mother of all nuclear payloads. The map was mine, since I was smart enough to hand Jerry my notebook and pen, first. (Though I was dumb enough/friendly enough to let others copy from my original map.)
So, as the get-together was breaking up, Survivor, Knightstar, and myself, went over to the motel's night office window to get some map copies made. We were standing at the motel office window, when these two cars full of gang-bangers pulled up right behind us, blaring their music so loudly that I could feel my lungs vibrating.
Knightstar gruffly told them to turn the music down, then turned back toward the motel office window. The gang feller Knightstar told to turn the music down hopped out of the car, and signaled the gang fella driving the other car to hop out also. The two of them, hands in pockets apparently holding some weapons, walked aggressively straight toward Knightstar's back. I turned to fully face them, as did Carl (Survivor).
Then they caught a glimpse that all three of us were wearing Busse shirts with pictures of big knives and words like "Combat Knives" on them. They stopped short, and then also noticed that we all had our hands on our hips, on knives. One of them turned to the other, shook his head, and the two of them backed off a few feet to reformulate their plan of action.
Then Survivor (Carl) directly engaged them in conversation, and did a remarkable job of defusing the situation.
I am serious when I say that our Busse and Swamprat shirts, along with our attentiveness and our being armed, and Carl's quick-wittedness, helped prevent probable bloodshed on Saturday night.
--Mike
So, as the get-together was breaking up, Survivor, Knightstar, and myself, went over to the motel's night office window to get some map copies made. We were standing at the motel office window, when these two cars full of gang-bangers pulled up right behind us, blaring their music so loudly that I could feel my lungs vibrating.
Knightstar gruffly told them to turn the music down, then turned back toward the motel office window. The gang feller Knightstar told to turn the music down hopped out of the car, and signaled the gang fella driving the other car to hop out also. The two of them, hands in pockets apparently holding some weapons, walked aggressively straight toward Knightstar's back. I turned to fully face them, as did Carl (Survivor).
Then they caught a glimpse that all three of us were wearing Busse shirts with pictures of big knives and words like "Combat Knives" on them. They stopped short, and then also noticed that we all had our hands on our hips, on knives. One of them turned to the other, shook his head, and the two of them backed off a few feet to reformulate their plan of action.
Then Survivor (Carl) directly engaged them in conversation, and did a remarkable job of defusing the situation.
I am serious when I say that our Busse and Swamprat shirts, along with our attentiveness and our being armed, and Carl's quick-wittedness, helped prevent probable bloodshed on Saturday night.
--Mike
:grumpy: 
:yawn: ...and dreams of INFI danced through his head.
