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Not sure if this belongs in this section, or even on this board. Mods, move/delete if you feel it necessary.
This happened early Monday morning. It was one AM in the morning, and one of my favorite hangouts had just closed. As I'm leaving I decide I want a soda and some cigarettes, so rather than drive straight home I stop at a nearby gas station. In the parking lot of this gas station is a police cruiser with its lights on. The cop is standing next to the open window of a parked car and is apparently writing the driver a citation of some sort. I pay them no mind as it doesn't concern me and continue into the store.
Now, before going any further I need to explain a few things. I am a gun owner. I also have a Carry Concealed Weapon(hereafter referred to as a CCW) permit. It is mid-October. I wear a trench coat when it is cold. My handgun is in a holster on my right side. My wallet is in my back right pocket. Any guesses what happened?
So I go in and grab a soda and walk up to the counter and ask for a pack of cigarettes. After the clerk scans my items I go to grab my wallet. Reaching for my wallet requires me to brush my coat aside, and I guess the clerk thought I was going for my gun because when my hand is halfway to my wallet the clerk starts screaming bloody murder. In the split second from the moment she starts screaming to the point where I actually grabbed my wallet I realized what had happened.
I pull out my wallet and hold up both my hands and try to tell the woman that I was just reaching for my wallet. She keeps screaming. The officer outside obviously heard her screaming because suddenly the door bursts open and in rushes the cop, gun drawn and pointed at me since I'm the only one in there other than the clerk. As soon as the clerk sees the cop she starts shouting "He's got a gun! He's got a gun!"
So now the clerk is screaming and pointing at me, the cop is yelling at me and has his gun pointed at me with his finger on the fucking trigger, I might add, and I'm scared out of my mind. I start rambling to the officer that I have a CCW and was just reaching for my wallet.
The cop yells at me to put both my hands on the counter. Of course, I do so. He slowly approaches me, still with his gun drawn, and pulls my coat aside, revealing my weapon. He takes it from me and takes several steps back. He holsters his own weapon and proceeds to unload my gun. As he works the slide the chambered round clatters to the floor and ends up rolling right next to my feet.
Have you ever been in a high-stress situation and for some reason the stupidest thought enters your head? Well, that happened to me. When the bullet stopped inches from my foot, my first thought was: "Hmm, I don't want to lose that, I should pick it up." Fortunately for me, before I could move the more rational part of my brain screamed: "IF YOU MOVE, HE COULD SHOOT YOU. Don't pick it up! Don't pick it up! Don't!" So I just stood there, still with both hands flat on the counter.
Apparently the cop had at some point called for backup because two more officers enter the store. One of the new officers pulls me to the side and begins to question me. He also searches me and finds my extra magazine and takes that as well. So now there are three cops: the one questioning me, one questioning the clerk, and the original officer with my gun now under his arm and taking notes.
I show the officer questioning me my CCW, my driver's license, and even my security guard card and explain to him what had happened. He takes notes and keeps asking me the same questions over and over again. I must have talked to him for over twenty minutes, in which he found a way to ask me five questions ten different ways each.
Finally the three officers converge and discuss what they've learned. They also ask the clerk if she can bring up the footage from the security camera that thankfully was pointed right at me during the incident. She is able to do so, and the three officers see that there was no pause as I pulled back my coat, and that I really was just reaching for my wallet.
With all this they finally decide that I have done nothing wrong and that the clerk overreacted. I am given back my weapon and magazines, but am told not to load it until I get home. At this point I finally get to pay for my items and leave. The clerk did not apologize or even say anything at all. In fact she gave me a death glare the entire time she rang me up. The cops stuck around as I was leaving, and one of them gave me a piece of advice as I got into my car: put your wallet in the pocket opposite your gun, that way situations like this can be avoided in the future. Good advice, but so far I've still found myself putting my wallet in that same pocket. It's going to take me a while to break myself of this old habit.
I am not going to lie: that was the absolute scariest hour of my entire life. I'm not going to be macho and say that I stared down the barrel of that cop's gun and didn't flinch. Hell, if there had been anything in my bladder at that point I probably would have pissed myself(thank God I used the restroom before leaving that hangout!). When I got home I put my gun and the magazines in my gun safe and sat in my bed. For over an hour I did nothing but stare at the wall, trying to calm myself down. I am so glad that cop didn't have a twitchy trigger finger.
One final little tidbit: Shortly after I was given my weapon back I found out from one of the cops that the clerk is from California and had only very recently moved to Arizona. California has some very strict gun laws, and Arizona has some of the laxest gun laws in the country. I've heard Arizona referred to as a 'Cowboy State' because a lot of people open carry. Apparently the clerk just wasn't used to seeing someone carrying a weapon and panicked.
Oh, and if anyone is wondering, I did remember to go and pick up the bullet that the cop ejected from the chamber of my gun.
This happened early Monday morning. It was one AM in the morning, and one of my favorite hangouts had just closed. As I'm leaving I decide I want a soda and some cigarettes, so rather than drive straight home I stop at a nearby gas station. In the parking lot of this gas station is a police cruiser with its lights on. The cop is standing next to the open window of a parked car and is apparently writing the driver a citation of some sort. I pay them no mind as it doesn't concern me and continue into the store.
Now, before going any further I need to explain a few things. I am a gun owner. I also have a Carry Concealed Weapon(hereafter referred to as a CCW) permit. It is mid-October. I wear a trench coat when it is cold. My handgun is in a holster on my right side. My wallet is in my back right pocket. Any guesses what happened?
So I go in and grab a soda and walk up to the counter and ask for a pack of cigarettes. After the clerk scans my items I go to grab my wallet. Reaching for my wallet requires me to brush my coat aside, and I guess the clerk thought I was going for my gun because when my hand is halfway to my wallet the clerk starts screaming bloody murder. In the split second from the moment she starts screaming to the point where I actually grabbed my wallet I realized what had happened.
I pull out my wallet and hold up both my hands and try to tell the woman that I was just reaching for my wallet. She keeps screaming. The officer outside obviously heard her screaming because suddenly the door bursts open and in rushes the cop, gun drawn and pointed at me since I'm the only one in there other than the clerk. As soon as the clerk sees the cop she starts shouting "He's got a gun! He's got a gun!"
So now the clerk is screaming and pointing at me, the cop is yelling at me and has his gun pointed at me with his finger on the fucking trigger, I might add, and I'm scared out of my mind. I start rambling to the officer that I have a CCW and was just reaching for my wallet.
The cop yells at me to put both my hands on the counter. Of course, I do so. He slowly approaches me, still with his gun drawn, and pulls my coat aside, revealing my weapon. He takes it from me and takes several steps back. He holsters his own weapon and proceeds to unload my gun. As he works the slide the chambered round clatters to the floor and ends up rolling right next to my feet.
Have you ever been in a high-stress situation and for some reason the stupidest thought enters your head? Well, that happened to me. When the bullet stopped inches from my foot, my first thought was: "Hmm, I don't want to lose that, I should pick it up." Fortunately for me, before I could move the more rational part of my brain screamed: "IF YOU MOVE, HE COULD SHOOT YOU. Don't pick it up! Don't pick it up! Don't!" So I just stood there, still with both hands flat on the counter.
Apparently the cop had at some point called for backup because two more officers enter the store. One of the new officers pulls me to the side and begins to question me. He also searches me and finds my extra magazine and takes that as well. So now there are three cops: the one questioning me, one questioning the clerk, and the original officer with my gun now under his arm and taking notes.
I show the officer questioning me my CCW, my driver's license, and even my security guard card and explain to him what had happened. He takes notes and keeps asking me the same questions over and over again. I must have talked to him for over twenty minutes, in which he found a way to ask me five questions ten different ways each.
Finally the three officers converge and discuss what they've learned. They also ask the clerk if she can bring up the footage from the security camera that thankfully was pointed right at me during the incident. She is able to do so, and the three officers see that there was no pause as I pulled back my coat, and that I really was just reaching for my wallet.
With all this they finally decide that I have done nothing wrong and that the clerk overreacted. I am given back my weapon and magazines, but am told not to load it until I get home. At this point I finally get to pay for my items and leave. The clerk did not apologize or even say anything at all. In fact she gave me a death glare the entire time she rang me up. The cops stuck around as I was leaving, and one of them gave me a piece of advice as I got into my car: put your wallet in the pocket opposite your gun, that way situations like this can be avoided in the future. Good advice, but so far I've still found myself putting my wallet in that same pocket. It's going to take me a while to break myself of this old habit.
I am not going to lie: that was the absolute scariest hour of my entire life. I'm not going to be macho and say that I stared down the barrel of that cop's gun and didn't flinch. Hell, if there had been anything in my bladder at that point I probably would have pissed myself(thank God I used the restroom before leaving that hangout!). When I got home I put my gun and the magazines in my gun safe and sat in my bed. For over an hour I did nothing but stare at the wall, trying to calm myself down. I am so glad that cop didn't have a twitchy trigger finger.
One final little tidbit: Shortly after I was given my weapon back I found out from one of the cops that the clerk is from California and had only very recently moved to Arizona. California has some very strict gun laws, and Arizona has some of the laxest gun laws in the country. I've heard Arizona referred to as a 'Cowboy State' because a lot of people open carry. Apparently the clerk just wasn't used to seeing someone carrying a weapon and panicked.
Oh, and if anyone is wondering, I did remember to go and pick up the bullet that the cop ejected from the chamber of my gun.
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