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In a perfect world, everyone would understand the bumper sticker,
"An Armed Society is a Polite Society," a phrase attributed
to the late science fiction writer Robert Heinlein. I live in a nice part of town and work not far away. Most days I get home for lunch and/or run errands, and it was here, recently that the idea of gunowners as more aware than others stuck me forcefully. My bank is in a small two-business plaza. In addition to the bank, a chain drugstore sits next door and there's plenty of parking. Both entities have been there forever, but both have changed hands a number of times. The bank has adapted the existing building, so that the ATM is in a small lobby between the outside doors and the doors leading to the bank proper. It occasionally gets a little jammed up during business hours, as more and more folks prefer the ATM to waiting for an actual teller. A couple of blocks away is another chain drugstore, also with a parking lot (but much smaller than the first). Both lots are plagued with parking "poachers"-folks not using the businesses but wanting to take advantage of free parking. The bank-which I'll call Plaza Bank, has a security guard, and its neighbor, which we'll dub Plaza Drug, does not. Other Drug (which we'll call the stand alone pharmacy), also
has a security guard. Plaza Bank's security guard is an employee of a security firm. He's in his mid-30s, tall and solidly built. He usually stands outside Plaza Bank, and he generally opens the door for people as they enter. He wears a security guard uniform and he has a visible sidearm. Other Drug's security guard is an employee of the store-which like many other retail businesses has an explicit and public policy against armed security. He's a bit younger than the first guard, and is always in the store and wearing "civilian" clothes (Other Drug employees don't wear a uniform or even a logoed smock). He's almost always found inside the store, near the front, chatting with the customers and flirting with the clerks. I've seen him round up shopping baskets and hold the door for customers. So, if a problem occurred, which place would you rather be-Plaza
Bank or Other Drug? For example, I didn't mention that Plaza Bank guard is almost always on his cell phone, and stationed outside the bank, and at least five or six steps from the door. If he's not on the phone, he's often found in the ATM foyer, a space of about 8 feet at most, with doors that open inside both from the outside and inside the bank lobby. I also didn't mention that Other Drug's guard never fails to make eye contact with anyone who enters-usually just a pleasant hello. Once, on a busy weekday lunch hour, as I waited to check out, I heard him say, "You know they say we can't carry, but I always tell people I carry three days a week, and it's up to them to guess which day." I looked around a bit more closely at that, and noticed that in addition to a fairly obnoxious woman who was making a fuss about something with one of the cashiers, there were a couple of other patrons waiting in line, a group of older teens were shopping. I like to think I'm not frightened by the mere presence of a couple of kids, and, to be honest, they didn't look that ominous to me. Some of you might also think that Other Drug's guard was being a bit of a braggart at best, and perhaps a bully at worst. We could also debate whether it is ever advisable to even hint at concealed carry in such a situation. I checked out and left (the guard held the door for me) and I am sure if there had been an incident at Other Drug, I would have heard about it. But the whole thing got me thinking, especially in light of the Virginia Tech shootings, that so many people fail to use their heads in everyday situations, and that gunowners, generally speaking, seem much more observant. In a critical incident, I think, the aware citizen has a much better chance of survival than those who float through the world unaware.
Photo © Copyright 1998 Nancy Floyd, used with permission. |