Sex, Gun Control, and Personal Responsibility
It’s been one week sine you looked at me, cocked your head to the side and said I’m angry…oops, wrong intro. Let’s try that again… It’s been one week since I wrote my very personal, very intimate blog post: I Don’t Need God. I’ve had more calls, messages, and emails than I ever thought it would garner, but all-in-all I appreciate your opinions and intend to respond to many of those messages this week. Sorry for the late response, but big things are afoot and I needed to attend to them first.
Since my post, I haven’t really put myself in a situation to be tested…until Friday tonight. Why put myself in that situation at all? Well, because I really enjoy going out, meeting people, and making memories. I decided that I would just stop getting drunk when I go out since I saw a seemingly direct correlation between nights I get wasted and nights I regretted. Turns out, it’s not the drinking…
Gun Control? How About Personal Responsibility
Before I get into that story though, a little background that’ll make the second story that much sweeter. Something you should know about me: I have an opinion on just about everything, often more than one at a time, and sometimes even contradicting. However, I’m a constant proponent of personal responsibility. I believe we should hold people accountable for their own actions aside from the influences of their upbringing, society, etc. Not even a week ago we had a succinct debate about gun control in the office. I, in my typical fashion, vehemently proclaimed my opinion that gun control laws are mostly sufficient, and that personal responsibility should play the primary role in sentencing gun-related crimes. Don’t outlaw guns; teach people to express themselves in a passive way. That sentiment doesn’t necessarily resonate with the more liberal occupants of our office. Personally, I’m a talker. When I’m feeling anything, I talk about it…often to myself, but never resorting to violence. Not everyone has that outlet, but regardless, I’m a supporter of the rights of US citizens and, therefore, the right to bear arms.
I don’t own a gun. In fact, I just shot a handgun for the first time about two weeks ago. It was fun and I felt a bit like James Bond, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to do it again. Not only do I not own a gun. I have no desire to own a gun. You know what else I have no desire to do? Smoke cigarettes. Both kill people. Neither should be illegal.
A personal note: multiple people in my immediate family own guns. Guess what…despite shooting hundreds of thousands of rounds they’ve never shot anyone. Personal responsibility – don’t point a gun at a person you moron!
The real story
Saturday was my buddy Bobby’s birthday. My day was packed so I decided to take him out Friday night instead. We went to a couple places, grabbed some dinner, and ended up at a bar he insisted on: Kozy Kar. This bar is unlike anywhere you’ve ever been. I swear. It had two water beds (yes, in a bar), a jacuzzi split in half as a booth, and 70′s soft porn pictures creating a motif along the bartop, walls, and dance floor. As it usually happens when you’re out and about, you meet people. We met two girls, and I immediately offered to buy a round of drinks for the four of us. (For some reason girls feel obligated to talk to you if you buy them a drink. Don’t know why, but I’ll take it.) We started chit-chatting. Both of them are lawyers, one a public defender. (Why get a J.D. if you’re gonna work in public service. You could get a job at the post office for about $100k less in student loans, but I digress.)
Long story short, I wind up making out with one of them on the aforementioned waterbed to the cheers and applause of about two dozen onlookers. People were literally coming up and jeering us when we’d take a break for a minute. With rare exception, I couldn’t care less what anyone else thinks so I was just taking it in stride – also it doesn’t hurt that I like attention
To the point
At one point during our public spectacle she asked me, “Do you carry a gun?” I was, surprisingly, not flustered by the question.
“No, I’m not big on guns” I promptly responded.
“You seem like someone who would carry a gun.”
“I don’t know. You just do.”
Typical girl answer. I just took it as a testament to my masculinity, but if you know me at all you’ll realize that would be a very atypical accusation. My guess is that I was just being overly aggressive. I guess I’ll never know. *shrugs*
A note to women reading this: if you make out with a guy in a bar you’ll probably lose his respect. If its just for fun, go for it. Otherwise, take a goodnight kiss and then wait for a real date.
Reflecting back, I’m mostly ambivalent when I think about that night. I kinda feel like the man. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve made out with a girl I met in a bar. My ego doesn’t really need a boost, but it definitely got one. On the other hand, I’m wondering if kissing, somewhat like sex, is commoditized by repetition. It’s far less intimate an action, but still, it makes me wonder. I’ll let you know if/when I find the answer.
Bottom line, I would carry a gun and smoke at the same time if I had the desire. I think we should be held accountable for our decisions when it comes to gun possession, smoking, and how we choose to conduct ourselves in public. Accountable for those decisions, but also free to make them. As for my new path towards a more respectable self, I’m counting this as a step in the right direction. I didn’t get drunk on a Friday night bar hopping in the city, and I knew exactly what I was doing. Was it the right decision? Not sure yet. Was it my decision. Absolutely.