Friday, September 07, 2007

Wrong End of A Gun

A Vegas friend of mine (who used to work with me at G3) called me a month ago, and asked to borrow my video camera. He has a start-up multimedia business he's trying to get off the ground, and he simply needed to do a video dump (transferring the video footage he had recorded from a camera to his computer). I loaned him my camera, and he promised to return it to me at work (G3) the following day. To make a long story short, he didn't return my camera. He claims he had car problems, and that he could no longer drive to return the camera, but that I could pick it up at his place.

After a month of similar excuses, I decided to call him this morning, and tell him I was indeed coming to his place to get my camera. He was very friendly, said it was no problem, and said he'd be there after I got out of work. He gave me his address.

Darren (one of my roommates) and I drove to the address I was given, but it didn't seem to exist. We found an apartment complex in what we believed to be the right address, and found an apartment number that matched the (3150) street address number I was given. We found the apartment, and knocked a few times, but it was dark and completely silent, so we headed back to my truck.

We got in the truck, and a man approached from out of the darkness. Being a somewhat tall, bald, black man, he fit the description of my friend, which is who I thought it was, until he got close. This unknown man approached my truck window, and asked what we had been doing at his door. I explained that we were looking for my friend. He said, "You found the WRONG door." He said this several times, as if it had significant meaning. I asked him if his address matched the one I was given, and he refused to say. He said, "I don't want to talk about that! You found the WRONG door.". He was acting a bit erratic. He then said, "Yeah, I followed you guys into the parking lot, and I got my gun." Sure enough, just below eye-level to me (as I was sitting in my truck) I could clearly see he was holding a handgun (partially under his shirt).

You would think this would register some kind of reaction in me. A quickening of my pulse, a feeling of fear, a frantic desire to flee, a struggle to think of some way out of the situation... SOMETHING. For some reason, I felt nothing. I had zero reaction to the fact that I was in a "bad" part of Las Vegas, at night, being confronted by an erratic stranger holding a gun about 10 inches from my face. I felt no fear of any kind. I don't know why. Any intelligent person would have. I should have, but I just didn't. I looked at the gun, then looked him straight in the eyes, and asked him again if his address matched the one we were given. I was actually annoyed that he wouldn't tell me if I had been given the wrong address! He looked puzzled as to why his gun registered no reaction with me. He looked down at it, then looked at me again. I was still looking directly into his eyes, waiting for the answer to my question. He again said, "I don't want to talk about that." Seeing that we were at a stalemate, I said, "Well, then I'm sorry we disturbed you. Goodbye." I then rolled up my window, and slowly drove away, as if we were casually leaving a supermarket or something.

As I sit here hours later, I still don't understand my reaction (or rather lack thereof) to the incident. I did NOT grow up in a gun-toting household (save an old 22 rifle that sat decaying in the basement). I've never owned a gun, and until tonight I've never been in a confrontation that involved a gun (though we did once witness the police pulling riot guns on a suspect at a gas station). I'm not any kind of legitimate badass either... I'm not an ex-Navy SEAL, Army Ranger, FBI, SWAT, or the like. And yet I felt nothing when confronted by an erratic stranger with a gun. I always hoped that if this kind of situation ever occurred, I would find a way to stay reasonably calm, but I never thought I would feel no fear or apprehension of any kind.

I've always denied the ideas of those who would have us believe watching violent movies and playing violent video games make us desensitized to violence in the real world, but tonight I'm wondering if they were right? Did committing thousands of violent, armed crimes in Grand Theft Auto (and similar games) desensitize me to the danger of guns in the real world? Did watching countless action movies where the hero survives wave-after-wave of gunfire somehow make me subconsciously believe I'm bullet-proof? I don't know, but I find it very unnerving to know my survival instinct did not kick-in tonight as it should have. Fortunately, I do still have logic, which tells me that I need to avoid putting myself in that kind of situation again!

3 Comments:

Blogger ruehllin said...

How 'bout this: while reading your post, I was frightened enough for the both of us!

Sadly, I think you've been played for a video camera. What is the world coming to?

Don't go there again!!!

8:09 AM  
Blogger Todd said...

Um... Nobody plays me. I'll be getting my camera back... but I also won't be going to that neighborhood again. I'll just have to get more creative.

9:44 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I believe remaining calm was indeed your survival instinct kicking in. It's the folks who try to play "hero" or who challenge those with the weapon who usually wind up dead. Once you showed you were no threat to the man with the gun, he had no reason to use it.

12:20 PM  

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