I’m ready to buy a gun

I might buy a gun.

I’d need a permit. And lessons on how to shoot, a place to keep it safe, and a way to overcome the fear that I’d shoot myself.

I’m not a natural gun owner. I’m more likely to be holding a knitting needle than a Glock — but recent events have made me rethink my natural aversion to weapons, an aversion that has nothing to do with philosophical opposition and everything to do with my own physical incompetence. I’m the one they picked last for all the intramural sports in grade school because I have the precision vision of Mr. Magoo and could trip over a non-existent wire. If my life were a western movie, it’d be called “Have Gun, Will Unravel.”