Every now and then someone asks me why I don’t have a “real job” (hi Mom!). I answer simply “I don’t play well with others.” While that would make me a lousy mainstream media political reporter, it has its advantages in the no-holds-barred blogosphere. I don’t just ask tough questions I hit people over the head with them. For example, when I spotted Emily Miller scooting across the Hyatt’s deeply disturbing carpet I shouted out her name. “Emily Miller!” (in case you forgot). Here’s what I forgot: the Washington Times gun rights reporter has a secret “admirer” who’s threatened her life. No wonder, then, that Emily stopped and winced, as if she’s just heard the report of a long range rifle . . .
What’s that book? How to Lose Friends and Alienate People? Anyway, I quickly introduced myself to the diminutive writer who just as quickly thanked TTAG for its support of her efforts. Indicating that Emily hadn’t really caught some of the more barbed remarks embedded therein. Which is just as well.
I mentioned her death threat and asked if she carried anyway. You know; on the DL. Off-the-record. If Miss Miller had answered affirmatively I wouldn’t be mentioning it now. Obviously. Emily said something about not wanting to go to jail and losing her gun rights. Sensible girl, who may or may not be carrying a can of pepper spray.
I half-jokingly said if she got caught with a gun it would be like Elvis’ death by constipation (true story but I used a less scatalogical analogy): a great career move. “I better not miss,” she said.
Wait. I was talking about Emily getting busted by the cops for carrying. Not Emily shooting a BG. And certainly not not shooting a bad guy. “It’s OK to miss,” I said reassuringly. “As long as the bad guy runs away, that’s a result.” I mean, survival’s more important than street cred, isn’t it?
At that point I asked Emily if she’d had any force-on-force training. “I trained with Rob,” she said, referring to TTAG writer and Kardashian-friendly gun guru Rob Pincus. “You haven’t really trained until you’ve felt a pain penalty,” I said half-jokingly.
I’m not sure if Emily Miller informed me of her urgent need to go to the bathroom at that exact moment. If I’m honest, I’d have to say yes. Yes it was. Anyway, ice broken (in my own special way). I’ll ask Miss Miller about gun rights for felons the next time I see her. That ought to be a safe topic.