Petersen: Me and the NRA
I’m a person who proudly supports
I pack a weapon for self-protection
Almost every day.
To legally carry a concealed gun,
A permit is always needed.
So, off I went to the weapons shop;
For a permit I then pleaded.
I bought some bullets for my gun
And signed a document;
Then offered up my credit card,
To pay was my intent.
The card got caught; it wouldn’t slide!
The clerk advised, “Strip down,
And face toward me while you do.”
“Huh?” said I and frowned.
Were these new rules by the NRA?
I wondered. But I obeyed,
And did just as the clerk instructed.
Then someone hollered, “HEY!”
As there I stood in my birthday suit
Folks all stared — enthralled
And suddenly, embarrassed, I knew
I’d misunderstood — all
Other patrons went hysterical
The noise grew overwhelming
The hullabaloo slowly subsided
(It had been alarming)!
For future shopping, I’ve been asked
To take my business elsewhere.
Now, I don’t blame the NRA,
But how that clerk did glare!
I wasn’t trying to show off;
I wasn’t sad or mad.
(As a matter of fact, I don’t think
I looked all that bad!)
But here’s the moral of this story;
My permit’s up to date —
If trouble comes, I’ve got your back —
Me and the NRA.❖
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