Monday, December 2, 2013

My cap gun

I have a cap gun sitting on my desk, and it's all I can do not to grab it, pull the trigger, and let loose. I'm a grown man, with all sorts of adult responsibilities like paying bills and mailing things with stamps. Every day there are people who look at me as if I'm some kind of authority figure, and then it dawns on me that yes, I am some kind of authority figure. I am often referred to as "Mister," once more cementing my role as responsible adult in this society.

And all I want to do is pull the trigger on that cap gun until the room smells like whatever a room smells like after you go through an entire round of caps in one go. I almost wish I had a cat so I could scare it and post the video to the internet, because the internet never gets tired of cat videos. My wife would either give me a cross look for having terrified the cat, or be angry that I wasted all the caps because she wanted a turn.

The point is, here I am with a cap gun and I want nothing more than to pull the trigger so I can hear a large bang. This is why I didn't get that job in the nuclear missile silo. Apparently all the tests came back saying I can't be trusted around big, red, flashing buttons that make things go boom. I didn't even know there were tests like that.

To be fair, that is pretty important information to have around about potential employees. Perhaps there should be a number we are all assigned. Like a credit rating, we'll have a likelihood to press the big red button that makes things go boom rating. I'm not sure how often that situation comes up, but I'm certain there are several professions in which not pressing buttons (of any color) that make things go boom is considered a prime qualification.

I'm not sure what my rating would be, but I can tell you that I probably won't be entrusted with anything more than a cap gun.

More of my Musings

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