Lo and behold, when I got inside, some yuppie soccer Mom type wear(ing) a “Moms Demand Action” t-shirt spotted me and the sidearm on my hip and immediately started ranting about how I was dangerous and scary, that my big, bad SigSauer made her nervous, how did she know I wasn’t going to shoot everybody in the joint, etc. I did my best to ignore her, hit the latrine, and came back out and paid for my gas.
While I was walking to the door, I noticed the doped up potential troublemaker was waving his arms around, beating on his chest and (gesturing) at people like he was going to throw a punch while yelling, “I’ma f* you up! Y’all don’t want none!” and so on.
I walked out the door to head to the car, and when I did, the Mom’s Demand nutjob approached from my right and quietly asked, “Would you walk me to my car?”
My first response is to say I’d go ahead and do it, because I like to keep on the plus side of the good/bad karma ratio. I’m not certain that’s the right answer.