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Literally Bringing A Knife To A Gun Fight

, , , | Legal | December 5, 2020

I work at a golf course in the rural Southern United States. We are a small-time course, but we’re well-funded because a large management company owns the course and the apartment community associated with it. Therefore, we have relatively expensive equipment, and we have had many break-in attempts from folks trying to get equipment either to use on their own property or to sell to less savory agricultural and landscaping companies in the area. 

One particular golfer likes to ask lots of questions about our equipment — a suspicious amount of questions. We’ve also seen him cruising around the apartment complex in his car, seemingly trying to figure out what time he could be sure everyone was out working and not at the shop.

One day, we are supposed to have a big tournament, so the superintendent, assistant superintendent, and I come to work very early, well before dawn, to make sure the course is prepared. I am out back gassing up mowers when the aforementioned golfer walks out of the woods behind the shop. He pulls out a large knife and walks up to me very quickly. I drop the nozzle against the gas tank, which makes a large bang.

Golfer: *Surprisingly calm* “I don’t want to hurt you. I know you have keys. You’re going to open s*** up for me.”

He is within a few feet of me, although the mower is between us. He has no clue how badly he just f***ed up. All three employees here at the time, including me, have concealed carry permits, and because of the break-in attempts, we all carry our pistols when we are opening the shop in the morning and closing it in the late afternoon. My heart is racing, as I’ve never had occasion to draw my pistol before. I do so as he is barely an arm’s length away from me and hold it in his direction, though still pointed at the ground. He stops dead in his tracks, and at that moment, the assistant superintendent walks around the corner to see what the sound I made was.

The assistant superintendent is a former competitive shooter, and he has his pistol drawn in a split second. The golfer is clearly about to s*** his pants, and he turns and books it through the woods. I stay at the shop while my two colleagues drive our fastest cart into the apartment complex. I stay at the shop and call the police.

They found his parked car at the edge of the apartments, and within minutes, an officer who lives in the complex arrived. Sure enough, the moron eventually came stumbling out of the woods and made for his car. With three guns on him, he quickly surrendered and the officer cuffed him.

He was convicted of attempted burglary and sent to prison, and we still managed to get the course set before the tournament despite the delay. Word must have gotten out that we’re a heavily-armed shop, because afterward, the break-in attempts stopped almost entirely.