Me Pops had an old buddy, I'll call him Cloyce just to give him a name, who owned a small apartment building in the old neighborhood. One day he took a call from a tenant on an upper floor complaining that the married couple in a first floor apartment were making a terrible racket. Cloyce went to investigate.
He walked into the first floor hall just in time to see the husband of the couple in question scramble out of their adobe, hurrying the other way. His wife was in hot pursuit, a pistol in hand.
Seeing that her better half had made an escape, she turned on Cloyce. "What do you want?" the woman demanded, shoving the gun within inches of his nose.
"Bill," Cloyce explained to my Dad, "I spent a year in Korea, most of it right at the front. But I didn't never see the barrel of no gun look as big as the one on that pistol right that minute!"
"I'm just getting some tools from the basement," he told the gun toting mama, his hands extended towards the skies. She let him by, just as the cops arrived. Cloyce was more than ready to turn authority in the matter over to the boys in blue.
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