Life does drift, and the discussion over at SJ that Mark links to led to a digression into tactical pens, tactical pants, tactical shirts, and tactical underwear. (For those of you who have never tried to pronounce the phrase, “tactical pants,” please do try it; it’s almost impossible to say without giggling.)
Which reminds me of a story.
But I gotta back up for a moment. Despite the impression that the opening of D’Shai has given some people, anybody who has met me will have quickly figured out that whatever I am, it’s not a runner.
Being “vaguely pear-shaped” mixes poorly with marathons.
That said, during the summer, I do tend to spend a fair amount of time in a t-shirt and running shorts, just for the comfort. Which does lead to a problem in how to carry the handgun. Running shorts, after all, generally have an elastic waistband rather than loops for a good belt, and my usual pocket holster carry doesn’t work well with those, even without worrying about the possibility of the shorts suddenly dropping to the ground with a loud thunk that might not go over real well.
Which is how I found myself at the party carrying in Thunderwear.
There’s lots of things that are useful about Thunderwear, honest, although it’s not possible to holster the gun without doing violence to one of the basic safety rules: never point the handgun at something that you’re not willing to destroy. (Short further digression: Thunderwear is a great reminder that it’s never, ever necessary to quickly holster the gun.)
Well, it was all going very well until a woman friend of mine plunked down on my lap. We’re friendly sorts in my social circle.
Understandably, she gave me a look.
“Well,” I said, “I am happy to see you, but . . . “
“Yeah, I know: you have a gun in your pocket.”
She did have the courtesy to sound disappointed.