A long and garrulous tale signifying nothing and of no import at all...

I had to go to the post office today. No avoiding it. Only USPS would do. But I'm a good boy. I didn't even drive unto postal service property. I parked off-site, deholsterred, even took out my pocket knife and Leatherman. All the naughty bits went into the center console. I was now Post Office safe.

I went inside, conducted my business and got out.

Returning to the car I rehosterred, pocketed the knives and started her up, but couldn't take off the parking brake. I pulled the lever. I jiggled it. I wiggled the brake pedal. I tried backing up a little and going forward a little. Nothing.

I could drive slowly, but barely.

I called AAA and was towed to the dealer, where coincidentally I had another car waiting to be picked up. Perfect. I'll just trade cars. Easy peasy.

Afterwards, I stopped at McDonalds for coffee and went to pick up my kid from his thing. I had to wait almost an hour for him, but I had some emails to return, so no big deal. Heading home, he wants to stop at McDonalds too, so once again, to the Arches I go.

When I finally get home, the dog needed walking. It's very cold, so neither of us were happy about it.

That chore done, I went to my bedroom to change clothes as I had become a bit messed up trying to get the car un-braked.

Oops, my holsters empty. Better fill it. Where did I put the gun? It's not on the bed or in the bathroom. It's not on the dresser or the night table. Check again. Nada. I retraced my steps. Back to the car, check the laundry room, the kitchen, the family room where I hadn't even gone. Why I would deholster in the laundry room is anyone's guess, but I hadn't. It wasn't there. Under the blankets? Under the pillow? No. The gun was gone.

My precious Sig P220/10mm Legion had vanished. Had I really reholsterred after going to the post office? I thought I remembered reholstering and I had my knives. In all the detraction with the parking brake fiasco, had I forgotten to actually do it? Was I remembering the intention and not the action? While struggling to remember, I holstered the P226 that I used to carry before I bought the 10mm.

Mentally, I retraced everywhere I had been. I didn't think I had even gotten out of the car after leaving the dealer. I hadn't used the bathroom anywhere. Had I? I wasn't sure, but I didn't think so.

Damn. It must still be in the center console of the car sitting in the dealer's lot. A loaded, unsecured firearm. Not just any firearm, but a 10mm. The Boom of Doom. The round that famously ripped Superman a new asshole. Hell's bells. How could I be so careless. Stupid. Negligent.

The dealer officially opens at 7am, but maybe people actually get there earlier. I set my alarm for 5:30 and prepared to go to bed early and get up early.

Opening my bedside safe to put my P226 away for the night, I saw it. My lost P220/10mm. Not lost at all, but safely tucked away in the safe. Right where it was supposed to be. I had been running on autopilot and put it where it belonged.

I have no memory of doing it, but it was there none the less. Waiting for me. Maybe having a good laugh at my expense. Do guns have a sense of humor? My 10mm does.

Yes, this kind of situation has happened to me, before, also. Took my car in for service. Trunk gun remained in the trunk. Came home and checked for it later, and it was gone! Look for it everywhere inside the house several times over, and it was nowhere. Even emailed the dealership to see if any of their staff simply put it in safekeeping, while the car was being serviced, and simply forgot to put it back. Posted about this in the Lounge. Our great monkey here suggested I look again in the house, where I swore I have looked everywhere several times.

Yeah, everywhere.....except the garage. Lo and behold, there it was, inside the desk drawer where I put it before taking the car to the dealership. This simple step was completely taken out from my memory bank, while I was frantically searching for the gun. And after this, an apology was immediately sent to the dealership.

I'm so glad I can't read no gun signs.

I'll still play it safe and not go on Post Office property or it's parking lot. https://www.cnn.com/2013/07/11...st-office/index.html

Yes this has happened to me before .

quote:

Originally posted by RHINOWSO:
I'm so glad I can't read no gun signs.

What signs?

Hide a pistol under a bag of basmati rice for a few months. Yes kablammo, that was a dumb idea.

I did something similar just a few days ago. Went to the range with 2 pistols I needed to do some practice with. When I finished at the pistol range I packed up and went to the rifle range to play with a buddy's cousin-in-law-to-be's new SCAR.

I distinctly remember carrying the pistol case with the two guns in it from the firing line to my truck and putting it on the floor in the back seat. When I got home I unloaded the truck. It took two trips to get everything into the house.

An hour or so later I went looking for one of the two pistols I'd had out that day. Not in the safe. Neither one of them was in the safe. Oh, I guess I forgot to bring the pistol case into the house. Go out to the truck to get it. Not there. Check the house again, can't find it. Panic begins to set in. Did I screw up and leave it at the range? Did somebody prowl the truck and steal it while I was at the rifle range? Call the gun club to ask about lost & found. No answer, it's too late in the day now, nobody there. Shit. OK, gotta call the club first thing in the morning, and if they don't have it then I gotta call the sheriff and report two stolen guns (one of them brand new, just bought it three days earlier). Figure there's no way I'm going to get any sleep, worrying about what happened.

Couple of hours later I'm walking from the bathroom back out to the living room, and stop dead in my tracks. There, sitting on a box next to the kitchen, is my pistol case. Open it, yep both guns are there. The only way that case could possibly have wound up there was if I carried it into the house and put it there. But I'll be DAMNED if I can remember doing it.

Alzheimer's setting in?

I haven't done the same with a firearm, yet, but I've done it with just about everything else. Have something in hand, idly set it down somewhere, later on wonder where the hell it is. It's drivin' me nuts

Did it once. With a Beretta. Months after one of our cars had come back from the tire shop. I didn't drive that one much at the time; it was a garage queen of sorts so it had been on the trickle charger, loitering away in the garage. One day I decided to shoot that Beretta, but I couldn't find it anywhere. I had "always" stored it in a particular safe, but it wasn't there where it was supposed to be. Then, jarring the cobwebs that is my poor excuse of a brain, I last remembered bits and pieces about the gun being put into the trunk of that previously mentioned car. So I looked there and...no gun.

Yes I was now in panic mode. What the hell did I do with it? Then I remembered the tire shop visit. But at this point many months had past and besides I had no tangible proof that they had taken the gun. Or for that matter, that the gun was even in the car. Plus I felt uneasy about making a scene with them about it; the shop had ALWAYS treated me right and with respect...they were among the good guys. But I couldn't shake the feeling that someone there had come across it when retrieving the wheel lock key that I store in the same trunk.

I debated about reporting the gun as being lost, then life got in the way again. For months I was distracted by Mom's cancer therapy (I served as her chauffeur during those trying times and general gofer when I wasn't transporting her to and from radiation and chemo). Then there was the recovery, and Dad's own ongoing health issues. By the time I remembered the Beretta again over a year and a half had passed. Now it was well beyond two years since I last saw that Beretta. I was convinced by now that it was long gone. I really SHOULD protect myself and report the gun lost. But again I delayed it.

Another month or two had passed. I was looking around my shop for something else that I had misplaced. In a pile of boxes which stored various hardcopy records and household paperwork 'stuff', I noticed an old nylon bag sitting behind a pile of car magazines. It was my old range bag that I abandoned long ago. When I "retired" it I had emptied all of my usual range gear I used at the time and it was just sitting there, unloved and partially concealed behind other junk. As usual, I thought "I really SHOULD clean up and throw out some of this stuff".

Then it struck me. Like a bolt of lightning. The last time I REALLY remembered the Beretta was when I stuffed it into this bag, then into the trunk of said car. Well...if the bag is here, right in front of my face...lo and behold, in a compartment down at the bottom of the bag was that darned Beretta! It had been there in my workshop for almost 30 months all along. I then realized another epiphany moment, that I had CLEARED the trunk of all superfluous stuff about a week before taking it into the tire shop. I had wanted to make sure that the wheel lock key was still in there. I had seen all of the clutter in the trunk and decided that I had to jettison the mess before turning the car over to the shop. I just didn't remember the old range bag as being one of the things that I had taken out of the car. To this day I still don't remember taking it out of the trunk; I guess I had just done it automatically along with everything else I had removed that day. I also don't remember putting the bag aside next to that pile of file boxes, but I do remember piling the car mags next to it.

In fact I actually READ some of those mags off that pile in that 2 1/2 years that the Beretta was MIA. If only I had realized just how close I was to finding that gun during all of that time.

Alzheimer's? I dunno about that. But brain damage? My wife would say so.

A few months ago I was looking for my 228, can't find it anywhere, it was sitting right next to another 228 last time I saw it, hadn't shot it in a while so I knew it was in the house or stolen. Wife an I toss the place, nothing. Then I went to do some yard work. I have a drawer that I keep old shirts for house/yard work. Open it up and see some plastic sticking out under my shirts, boom there it is. I had no recollection of putting it there.

Once misplaced a pistol. Came home from lease and thought I would clean my guns. Could not find a pistol. Vaguely remembered that I took a potshot at rabbit before filling a feeder so headed back and found it 20 yards from feeder. Think I left it on top of rear bumper and drove off.

Early signs of dementia!!!

EasyFire

I laid a pistol and 2 mags on the hood of my jeep one day as I was getting ready to go shooting at my camp.I got distracted and drove off, As I made a right turn I saw something out of the corner of my eye fall off to the left side of the jeep. It was my Xd and mags. Scuffed them up some. I was just thankful it wasn't one of my more expensive pistols.

Then there's looking all around for it and realizing it's in the holster, that's on your belt.

I have one of those memories that can recite chapter and verse something I read 40 years ago but not where I put something a minute ago. I went to work one morning, taking my gun as usual, and found when I got to work that I didn't have my gun. When I got home I found it where I had dropped it, still in its holster, in the flower bed next to my front porch. Good thing it fell hidden from casual view. For this reason, if I have to use a restroom, I never take the gun off, instead leaving it holstered and attached to my belt. Setting it aside is a good way to forget it, which has happened even to "trained" LEOs.

I did stuff like this until 2 kids came along and I realized I needed a new routine to keep them safe.

Now every gun has a designated 'place' and never, ever gets put anyplace else. For things like the post office, I've got a lock box in the car, which I think is a good idea and establishes a designated holding 'place' in the car.

Kind of like the equipment on a fire truck., everything has a designated,labeled, place and goes nowhere else.