Sunday, November 22, 2009

Adventures at Bass Pro

Man, I don't know what is wrong with me today.
I had some things that needed to be done early early early this morning and I needed to stop off at Bass Pro on my way back from Sacramento to see if they had any 45 caliber reloading dies and a hand priming tool.
Okay, I got this Bass Pro dry shopping (how gay did that sound?) shit down pat. Walk through the door, trot past the fishing section, don't look left, go past the aquarium, up the stairs, hurry past the winter hunting clothes, hang a right, keep my eyes off the gun counter, go down 7 aisles and hang a left. That puts me in the reloading section. Reverse the process to leave.
When I was walking in, I noticed that I was feeling kinda sorta flushed and my hips and upper legs were killing me. I thought maybe it was being inside dressed for outside and driving for 5 hours so I blew it off.
I find my priming tool just fine. As I'm checking for the dies, I notice that they actually had a pretty good selection of gunpowder for a change. Naturally, the one set of 45 Caliber dies is on the very bottom shelf. I squat down and examine them. They look like they've been tampered with so I put them back. As I stand back up to leave, I got a killer head rush and started going over sideways. This guy next to me grabs me by my coat, steadies me and says "I know! I can't believe they have gunpowder either!!!"
We laugh, he helps me over to a bench and goes to get me some water. I'm sweating my ass off. I'm shaking. I have a monster headache. I'm feeling real nauseous. But worse yet, my guts are about to explode. I clench my butt cheeks as long as I dare, then haul ass down the stairs and BARELY make it to a stall. Didn't even have time to put an ass gasket down.
I get done, pay for my tool and cautiously make it outside, breathe in some smog and start to feel better again. Not much but a little. It was a memorable trip home, to say the least.
As soon as I walked in the door, I felt fine. Even put on a big pot of frijoles and hocks - how cocky is that?
An hour later, I get hit by another wave. 15 minutes later, I'm fine. An hour later, BAM. Then I'm fine. It's been going like that all damned day. If I'm going to be sick I wish it would be consistent, you know?
Work oughta be fun tomorrow, huh?