I haven't seen Joe the Plumber much lately, but he came to my workplace unannounced today. "I want you to take care of my two compound bows, and thirteen arrows," he said. "Worth $2,000!" When I asked him why he wanted me to hold them rather than storing them in his storage unit, he laughed, and said the Hell's Angels were looking for them. Heh. I smiled. Joe is funny when he gets plowed for lunch.
I decided against bringing the bows into the workplace, and put them in my car's trunk instead. One of my co-workers once indicated her greatest fear was someone at work 'going postal.' My work mates are probably the least postally-inclined group you could find, but I'm sensitive to her concerns. Gaily walking into work while carrying weaponry is counter to workplace team-building, and might impede communication.
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