Op-ed: Divided We Fall
Finding common ground with a gun-loving guy in a pickup truck at 3 in the morning.
October 23 2014 7:00 AM ET
I recently started working weekend graveyard shifts at a gas station and convenience store in Missoula, Mont. At 2:45 one morning a guy pulls up to the pumps in a big white truck with NRA stickers on the bumpers. On his back window he has a giant, bigger-than-life-size decal of a military-style assault rifle with the words “If You Want Mine, You Better Bring Yours.”
I decided to take a photograph of it; my intentions were to post in on Facebook so my friends and I could electronically shake our heads in disbelief and write things like “Wow! What an idiot.”
The guy saw me and asked why I was taking a photo. I said I thought it was “Interesting.” Which is true. He replied, “Thanks!”
We chatted awhile.
He was actually a nice guy. We had a pleasant conversation. Granted, we didn’t bring up the Second Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America. We didn’t have to. We didn’t have to talk Obamacare or guns or gays. It didn’t matter if he knew I was gay or not. Not to me. Not then. Not there. The stars were still out. We just talked.
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