Last night, while I was curled up on the sofa with my Eee PC sipping some chai, Mike headed up to the bedroom, announcing that he was in for the night and was going to slip into something a bit more comfortable. On his way back down the stairs, I noticed he was holding something in his hand.
"Whatcha got there?" I asked.
He showed me. It was his pistol.
"I'm going to the basement to look at the internet," he explained. "and I like to have a gun nearby. Is that weird?"
I gestured to the coffee table next to me, where I had placed my Bersa. "You're asking me? I figure if someone bursts through the front door, I'm not going to have time to run for my pistol."
Mike chuckled. "Yeah. We don't even have to get off the sofa for our home invasions."