Because we aren't cool anymore, we were leaving the mall at around 9pm. After that, it's just emo city anyway. As we were walking out of our theater, we noticed a heavily armed sheriff walking through and checking each theater. This struck us as odd, but we just went about our business. We then discovered that they were lowering the cage doors as we walked out past the ticket booths. This barrier is even more intimidating than the impenetrable velvet rope. Hmm, even more interesting. More heavily armed sheriffs in the food court as well as
Since we are still unarmed in public (CCW test is April 5th), we headed out to the car. They probably weren't looking for civilian backup anyway. Although we had a very lively 'what if' discussion on the way home. A friend came over to the house and the incident wasn't mentioned again. She brought wine and we talked until 2 in the morning like crazy people.
In scanning the news for possible material, I ran across this. Texas Roadhouse is right across the street from the mall. I'm assuming they were looking for the shooter because I'm sure seeing a stupid movie and eating popcorn is exactly what one would want to do after opening fire in a restaurant parking lot.
I'm thinking that they were looking in the wrong place. I've eaten at the Texas Roadhouse in question. The last time I was there, they had a hostess with a real attitude problem. My friends had arrived before we did and put their names on the list for seating. Apparently there is a high demand for peanuts and over-cooked meat on Friday nights. I approached the hostess station to let them know that the rest of that party had arrived and to inquire about the wait time. In the most condescending tone imaginable, she informed me that when the name was added to the list there was a 20 minute wait and that it had only been 15 minutes since then. I apologized for my lack of omnipotence and waited another 20 minutes for our table. Our sweet as candy waitress (really, I hope she has a better job now) took excellent care of us and all but begged me to make a report to the manager about the hostess. It seems that she is very popular among the help. I obliged. This isn't really the reason I don't eat there anymore, it was just the proverbial straw. Apparently the cook there is permanently set on well-done. I don't like burnt beef. I want it rare to medium rare. I order it that way, but the cook's settings cannot be over-ridden.
So here's what I think happened. Dude deals with PMS bitch to get his table. He picks out a beautiful cut of steak and orders it bloody as hell. While he is waiting for said steak to sit on the grill long enough for the cook's presets, he requests a cocktail. When he finishes his whiskey-infused water masquerading as scotch-on-the-rocks, his serving of boot leather with a side of mashed salt arrives. He pays his tab and leaves. He sees a friend in the parking lot who suggests that they go back into the restaurant for drinks and dessert. At that point, he snaps and opens fire.
Ok, not really, but it makes for a good story. It's unacceptable use of a firearm and will only be used as ammunition (pun intended) by the gun control freaks. Even though no one tries to infringe on anyone else's freedom of speech because some wacko said something inflammatory. No one tries to stop people from being able to travel this great nation just because someone used their vehicle in an unacceptable manor and killed an innocent bystander. But the right to bear arms is the unpopular part of the constitution; no one protests the infringements there.
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