I Was Shot In The Buttocks

I wrote a post about guns, which was sort of funny, but I deleted it. It was about how my mom has had cops trying to recruit her after she began to fancy possessing a silver handled pistol and had lessons in shooting from an officer who said she was quite good. This all happened after my mother hit premenopause, and suddenly threw the family for a loop with her new interests. I, on the other hand, have tried and failed to find someone to take me shooting--despite my best attempts I always get cancelled. The sniper guys would take me, but they live further away. At any rate,so I wrote this post, commiserating in a funny way, and then deleted it, and about an hour later, I get SHOT IN THE BUTT as I'm walking towards town for a bite to eat.

Yes, shot in the butt. The lovely cap to a terrible day where my roommate flips out on me (again) and I'm wondering why I have to explain myself all over for the 5th time. Not that he didn't feel badly about it, and he didn't do anything wrong. But I leave the house to get away and give him his much needed space, and I get frickin' shot in the butt. Which, of course, has me running right back to Daddio. Who is simply thrilled to see me again and then feels he must be present while I nurse my emotional wound of being targeted by The Airgun Sniper.

As soon as I was hit, I looked at the license plate, and tried to memorize it, though I thought about it too late, in shock that someone actually targeted MY ASS. I got all but the last digit/letter of the plate. I saw someone rise from the backseat, or sit up, after they passed.

I found out it was considered to be an assault, and I didn't cry and I wasn't really angry either, but of course I pressed charges. One Canadian was the gunman, and another American just so happened to be someone I work with. So now I'm wondering if he was hired after me. And, it's bizarre because I had zero conflicts with the guy at work. I was sympathetic when he said he'd come down with food poisoning one day, and I was always friendly and he showed no animosity (that I noticed) and I tipped the cooks 15% from my tips and I believe he got a cut of that.

What a disaster. Well, now maybe I can apply for a concealed weapon, because who knows what the next thing will be. Next thing I know, it won't be an air-gun and I will be defenseless. If I'd had a gun on me, after being tagged, I would have aimed for the tires as they tried to get away, and THAT would have given me GREAT satisfaction.

When I got home, I told my roommate and then I wanted to check to see if there was a mark. My roommate knew what it should look like, and said it would be a round red dot. I had a very raised, perfectly round dot on my backside. Evidence!

For a split second, I doubted myself. Had a little pebble simply shot out from the car wheels? But no, I reasoned, I did hear a sound right before, or at the same time I felt the sting. I think the seam in my jeans kept me from feeling it as bad. If someone had told me over and over I had only imagined this, and it didn't really happen (as is often the case with my skeptics) I might have wavered. I was sure though, and then the guys admitted it to the officers and they were pretty much caught right after we called it in.

It was an assault 4, with the description written by the Sheriff as: "shot in the buttocks."

I'm sure I'll laugh about this one day. Hahaha. (??!)