The manager of the place where I buy my ammo offered me a job, full time, said he will match my pay, can't pay any higher. I would be a gunsmith, conduct shooting classes and get a share of his independent contracts - he has a side gunsmithing business - and such a job will probably abate my back pain as I won't be dealing with heavy fucking cargo, but it will be indoors and I will have to deal with the public.
I'm all in favor of people having firearms for protection, especially females, a firearm gives them, at least, a level playing ground against a male. And Florida is a stand-your-ground state meaning that if you are where you're legally supposed to be (e.g. your home) you have no duty to retreat if you are threatened. Shoot the motherfucker. I ain't a big man, 5'11", 170 lbs, still, unless a female is armed, I could take her, do what I want with her, finish her as I please.
Stand-your-ground, uh fur muh tiv; open carry, ne guh tiv; conceal carry, uh fur muh tiv; and I have a permit to conceal the firearms I carry. Sure, don't mind helping others be certified. But it's a close instruction, gotta get close to the student, she might feel your breath against her neck, will certainly smell you and you must touch her, not her intimate parts, tits, ass...humma humma ... but still guide her, her hands, fingers, wrists, arms, pelvis - take this stance - it's innocent sexual interaction, a dry fuck, the climax the firing of the firearm.
When I'm not innocently sexually interacting or dry fucking I will be repairing/modifying firearms. Which I enjoy. The hardness. Firmness. Reliance upon me. Nothing happens unless I squeeze the trigger. Control. Discipline, goddamn it. Even back in the Big Sandbox we kept our trigger fingers on the trigger guard unless we were prepared to fire.
There's that click slam when the bolt is slammed home.
Fuck with me.
Trigger finger is off the trigger guard.
How to instruct teach discipline a female to have the same mentality willingness audacity....the hardness, the hotness, the unforgivenness with me behind her, enveloping her, stiffening and solidifying her to pull squeeze kill . . .
Taught my bonafide ex how to operate a firearm, hell, I thought, when I am gone she will need to defend herself. Defend herself. Control myself from the thrill kill of controlling her stance her stiffness her control her unguarded feel of my breath from behind against her neck and can I do this for pay?
Will pay sway my bonafide way?
Is it a pathology?
This part of me that finds attractive the standing behind, the breathing on the neck, the control, the instruction, the discipline....I digress.
So it's an option. Ain't said no. Ain't said yes. I will get employee discounts on ammo and any purchases but can I count on myself to be controled disciplined STRAC hold back Jack because she might smell how females smell and when I breathe in I must exhale with control . . . wrist positioned here, stance, there, eyes focused and unaware of me behind you guiding you instructing and inhaling you and I mean no harm to you but want to level you in the playing field and then there's the risk of
the outdoors missed
steady breeze even if steadily stagnant
another job, different job with a pay that is of no difference. The difference will be in the alleviation of pain in the back probably in the head maybe in the everywhere else never be.
Instruct teach breathe against necks, guide control position fingers wrists stances - encourage romances - ain't looking for a lover, not even for love; but with female clients I will certainly be above - them - though I am only 5'11" and not a big man, slim and heavy with everything but body, usually a flirt and sometimes naughty, not a character to work with the public, still I'll think it over . . . healthy or sick, sick
with aches pulses stings strains thunders voices whispers screams
might take him up on his offer
like working with my body physicality muscle
all I've got
or maybe not?
Thinking about a new job, more office than outdoors, more intimate than personal, thinking about it, smoking and drinking and playing with the rabbit over it and suddenly I feel exposed and want to put on a shirt instead of being half naked and waiting for the early evening hurricane season storm, the afternoon one has come and gone, need some invigoration stimulation and positive sensation. . . . need a different job?
brushed my teeth and poured another, maybe call my no commitment, no expectations, there -when-you-need-me lover.
Haven't talked to mother
in nearly three months
so have I said a gun shop manager offered me a job with no pay scale jumps?
A/C clicked on, steady 76 indoors and when it pours the temp won't change. Will I change my job? or just call that lover, get laid, so here's to another Friday, ladies and gents, my focus spent, signing off now with hugs and kisses in all the soft places of the ladies and salutes and salutations for all the gentlemen.
Storm, yet another, is coming.
If I I intrigue my lover I will come too.
Maybe I need another job.
For my head, my back, . . .
Written and posted . . .