He was seated to the left of his friends with no one else at that end of the bar and the bartender at the other end. I politely asked him if he would temper his language as there was a lady present, he told me to f—k off. I said maybe he ought to leave before I call the police, he said something that I didn’t catch, but his right hand/arm went inside his coat and to his back. I instinctively knew who he was and what he was now doing. But given his condition he was slow enough that when his hand came out with a .38 in it, I was able to react quickly enough to gain the advantage. I first grabbed his arm with my left hand moving it to the lower center of his body and then I grabbed his hand with my right hand, placing my hand in a position to fire the weapon. Both of my arms were now holding his arm and hand, they and the gun were positioned between his legs.
I told him that any movement on his part would have him becoming a soprano (or something stupid like that). All this seemed to occur in the blink of any eye and he was stunned at his new predicament. His two friends saw what happened and had now encircled him and were telling him to release the gun from his hand so that I could take it away. It was dark enough at that corner of the bar that no one else saw the details of what happened. His friends acknowledged what they were and then apologized profusely, and said they would take care of it so that it would never happen again. Out of courtesy but against my better judgment I agreed, however I did keep the gun. Moral of the story, don’t drink and carry.
—CR, MI
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