Good thread here and will toss a tale on the pile only because it worked for me also, albeit in a slightly different fashion.
Back from Nam in '70, visiting the brother and he informs me that one of his coworkers has some gun stuff for sale and was I interested? Sure was...
Couple of boxes that included dies for a .44 Mag, .30 M1, a C frame Lyman press and misc. reloading stuff. Some powder, primers, bullets, a Lyman load manual, and a big leather holster, old west style....and a box with a Ruger 3 screw .44 in new condition. $125? Hell ya, so I was in the bidness and ready to roll.
Met the fella a few days later and the deal was consummated. Asked why he was getting out of all that gear and he said he didn't have the time and otherwise had all the guns he needed. One was a Ruger Mk 1 that he carried in the side pocket of his VW Beetle. He related the following tale:
Driving along a rural road one night and spies a fella hitch hiking, a big burly black fella. He stopped and picked the guy up and they began to roll. He asked where the fella was headed and he replied, "Pull over and give me your keys" while brandishing a smallish sheath knife. Fella told me that he shifted into third and stayed on the gas. Perp says, "I said pull over and give me your keys." My hero shifted into 4th and stayed on the gas, reached down into the side pocket in the darkness and pulled the Mk 1, stuck it between the perp's eyes, and said "Get out of my car."
He said the guy hardly blinked. He opened the door and rolled out of the car. The wind closed the door behind him. After I quit laffin' I asked him how fast he was going and he replied "Just a bit over 50." It took awhile longer for me to finally stop laffin'. That is impressive, I don't care who you are.
Dan
PS: I drove VW Beetles pretty much nonstop from my separation from the service in '72 on thru about '84 or so. I carried a Mk 1, or sometimes a S&W .38 snubby in the side pocket, depending on my mood, and worked shift work in Miami with the FAA. Only had occasion to pull it twice, but the most memorable was at a stop light when a fella walked up and tried to open the door on the pax side. It was locked, the window was down about 6" so he tried to reach thru to open the door, all the while demanding I let him in. It was about 11:30 PM in Coconut Grove. I poked the .38 in his face, he said, "Sorry." and walked away. I went to a local hang out and had a few drinks per usual after the shift. Fun times......
