Thursday, July 17, 2008

Your House Is Not A Free-Fire Zone

...Even when it kind of is. Sorry, Chollie, but you probably didn't get the Magic Bullet-Eating Wall option, either.

Having lived alone for a goodly portion of my adult life, I am of a differing opinion than many (most?) about shooting at Persons Unknown in my house when I'm the only one there. My vision is pretty awful and in case of emergency, the order in which things get picked up is 1. sidearm, 2. glasses. Should some ill-seen large-ish shadow show up at the bedroom door twixt steps 1 and 2, things are liable to go poorly for it. ("What? You would not identify your target?" Assuming I am living alone at the time, it is identified: In My House, Not Me. Maybe other people fail to lock doors or hand out keys to friends and family, but I do not. And yes, this means I probably would have shot your hypothetical Kindly Stranger Or Policeman who has entered my house uninvited to Do Me Good -- presuming such creatures are any more real than the Tooth Fairy, which they aren't).

I don't live alone right now, which (perversely enough) means I have freely accepted a higher level of risk; once that one extra key is out there and that one other person has free access, a significant degree of control over Who Goes There has been lost and being certain that target is a target requires far more precise identification. It's the price we pay for being a social species.

And between that and the lack of those magical-backstop walls (and windows) is the reason why my house (and yours) isn't a free-fire zone. Drat! Another hallway-ninja fantasy, gone.

10 comments:

Anonymous said...

I also live alone, but even with a roomie, maybe you could adopt my principle: "Anyone that belongs in my house knows how to get in quietly."

Both entrances are in the opposite corner from the sleeping area, and coming in from the other way had best bring a ladder and some way of dealing with the Burford Holly.

And I'll bet you keep something akin to what GF calls my Bedside Altar: Smif, cell phone, knife, and flashlight lined up on the nightstand.

breda said...

this is why, whenever we arrive home, we loudly announce ourselves to the other person in the house. A simple "Hello!! I'm home!" does wonders to end any confusion.

Sevesteen said...

I think in this particular case, the extra risk of a roommate is somewhat offset...

Anonymous said...

Aren't you afraid of your guns taking matters into their own hands and taking you out coming back to bed after a midnight trip to the fridge? I mean, guns are always killing people on their own aren't they?

I was wondering what inspired this post. I expected a link to someone shooting the wrong person in there somewhere.

rremington said...

RX

Not only do you "not live alone" now, you now have BACK-UP!!

Woe be unto the uninvited around THAT house...

Roberta X said...

Aw, heck; Tam's a pussycat unless somebody ticks her off. Right? Riiiiight. ;)

Anonymous said...

Roberta, did the real reason for Tam's moving to Indy involve irate villagers, perhaps toting pitchforks and/or torches?
I seem to remember light and heat on the eastern horizon somewhere around that time...

Roberta X said...

As near as I could figure, it involved lower rent, lockable doors and a genuinely superior selection of beers.

Anonymous said...

Yeah, and there's no religious edict, or whatever it is, that says beer & likker must be sold in separate facilities.

staghounds said...

If those cats ever figure out what guns do, they will engineer a mutual human self defense incident and eat like kings!