September 20, 2013
Hey, want to run over to Starbucks?
Sure. Let me grab my gun.
Your gun? What are you going to do? Line up some espresso cups and shoot 'em off the counter at 40 paces?
My gun is like my wallet, my friend. I never leave home without it. Now where'd I put that thing?
I'm serious. Why do you need a gun to go to Starbucks? I know we all have ugly thoughts about the people who stall the line while they ogle the pastry case, but a crisp "Excuse me" usually works.
The principle, my friend! It's the principle! The Founding Fathers promised me I could pack heat when I ordered a triple-shot no-foam skinny latte, and damned if I am not going to enjoy my inalienable right. Now where is that blasted gun?
Um, did you miss the news?
News? I don't believe in the news. I subscribe to the view of the late great English writer Evelyn Waugh, who once said, "News is what a chap who doesn't care much about anything wants to read."
Evelyn Waugh? Wow. You are proof that a chap can love his gun and be as literarily pompous as I am. But if you had read the news, dude, you'd know that Starbucks just announced that it doesn't want guns in its stores.
That's not news. That's propaganda. It's my pistol, and I'll pack if I want to. And I've always thought Starbucks coffee sucks.
You liked it fine back when Starbucks was cool with guns, when gun lovers were hijacking the warm, fuzzy Starbucks image with their "Starbucks Appreciation Days." Didn't you go to one of those?
Consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds. Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Actually, the correct quote is "a foolish consistency is the hobgoblin of little minds." I like the word "foolish." As in: It's foolish to think we're safer in a world where everyone's packing. As in: Starbucks realized the foolishness of its laissez-faire gun policy and had the guts to change.
Guts? It was business. Starbucks caved. It needs the dough of the whining latte liberals.
(Sigh.) If I don't get my cappuccino ASAP, I'll be late to my meeting.
As the late great Evelyn Waugh once said, "Punctuality is the virtue of the bored." And I'm not going anywhere until I find my gun. I need it just in case.
In case what? The barista is slow?
In case, say, there's an armed robbery. That's happened a few times at Starbucks, you know.
And you're going to ride to the rescue, Sheriff? That scares me more than armed robbers. Cafes filled with citizen gunslingers — that's my nightmare. And since it seems you're up to date on the Starbucks news after all, you've heard about the couple of times recently that guns have gone off accidentally in women's purses? In the Starbucks?
I'm not responsible for irresponsible gun owners and .... ah, there's my gun.
Next to the TV?
Had it there in case Miley Cyrus came on again. Shall we?
Not if you don't leave that thing here. Starbucks isn't a saloon.
I have the right to bear arms.
(Sigh.) This isn't just about rights. It's about judgment. Good judgment. Even children know that just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.
One man's good judgment, my friend, is another man's abridged freedom.
How about my freedom to get coffee without worrying that some wannabe sheriff who can't shoot straight is going to whip out a gun?
Brew your own.
(Sigh.) I can't believe we're having this conversation. If someone had told me a few years ago that we'd be debating whether it was OK to pack a pistol at Starbucks, I'd have thought that person was high on dystopian sci-fi novels.
Then let's stop talking about it. For all practical purposes, the gun debate is over anyway. So you take 50 deep breaths. One for every state with a law that allows concealed carry. The game is over, and your team lost.
For now, maybe. For now. But we've won a small victory at Starbucks. And Starbucks has been known to change the world.
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