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Mickey Z
Cool Observer
the Department of Homeland Security.
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Machine guns in the kitchen
The secret word is “Storytelling Saturday.”
Once upon a time…
I must have been about thirteen or so. We were still living in a fourth-floor walk-up in Long Island City (before everything around here became known as “Astoria") when my dad came home unexpectedly from work in the middle of the afternoon. I was hanging out in my room with my best friend, Bobby C. (who’s father, incidentally, was in the Mob until his “untimely” death).
Right in the middle of an intense Puff basketball game, my mom called us both into the kitchen.
When we got there, laid out on the kitchen floor were about a dozen machine guns on a blanket. My dad had just been out making a buy and, for some work-related reason that no one remembers now, he had to stop by the house before bringing the illegal weapons in to be registered as evidence.
As Bobby and I gazed at the mini-arsenal, I sort of smiled to myself. When your father is a Special Agent for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms, it’s not like you’re the son of an accountant or something like that. In his own way, I’m sure Bobby understood, too. When your dad has an unusual gig, you learn to expect anything and after a while, nothing surprises you.
Not even machine guns in the kitchen…
The End
Who else has a story?
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From Expendable Helga:
Sunset in Daylesford, Australia
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And finally...Katherine Hepburn would have been 98 today.
Kate sez: If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun.
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