I showed him my Buckmaster .22 pistol in April. I had been target shooting and poof, something didn't sound right. The screw on the back of the pistol had loosened and flown away.
Right. This screw was probably the size of a large bug and there was a lock washer that disappeared into the dirt and pasture...never to been seen again.
I was crestfallen. I love my .22 pistol. My husband bought it for me in 2004 as a Christmas gift.
Now isn't that sweet?
He said, "Love is giving your wife a pistol." And the salesman replied, "And...You sleep with one eye open right?"
So my dearest husband said, "Well remind me on Monday to call..." and he said a name of somebody who knew somebody who could maybe get the part.
April. May, June, July, August, September...
Me: It is Monday!
Me: Going to call?
Him: Well I got to get hay today.
I carefully cleaned my gun and put it in its padded case. I left it on his seat where he has coffee.
The next morning he moved it to the table. I moved it so that it would be in his way when he ate supper.
He moved it to the little phone table and stacked stuff on it.
Me: It is Monday again.
Him: I've got a doctor's appointment.
Sigh...It ... is ... Monday.
Him [his hearing must have gotten really bad]. What about Monday?
I'm not one to complain. One more sigh. He brought some ammo and brought it home.
Him: Look what I got for you!
Me: How nice, .22 ammo... for my broken pistol...
So off to town I go. I stop at a Gun Pawn Shop. I've never been in one and this one is pretty new in our small town. I look around and a lady asks if she can help me.
I am not selling but have a question. She informs me: "We don't do repairs any more."
"Okay, I just need to find out how to order a screw for my pistol."
Soon enough the gunsmith/salesman comes to me. He takes a look at my pistol and comes back in a bit.
"I ordered the part and I'll have it in 3 days. I'll call, you come in and I'll put it in for you."
As I walk out to my car in the lot I hear choruses of Hallelujah in the sunshine.