Philip might have been suicidal but he was definitely
insane. Anyway he was the last person you'd trust with a
gun. They don't seem to care here, I know so many fuck-ups
walking around heavy artillery I'm scared to think what
would happen if one of them flipped. We were sitting in the
pub that night and he was bullshiting me more than usual. I
started counting my own fingers when he suddenly stood up
and took his 9mm out and placed it on the bar in front of
me. For a second there I thought he would use it against me
but then he just asked "do you know how to use this". I said
I'd learned back in the army but why? He said the only
reason he hadn't blown his brains out yet is because he
believed in god and he couldn't be trusted with this
machine. I told him it was ridiculous and he might as well
lock himself in a padded room but answered he'd still feel
safer if I kept it for a few days. I mumbled under my breath
that I was about to use it against him, he said "what" and I
said "nothing".  

The first two days I used it as a paperweight and tried not
to think about it. Then I came home one morning and realized
my mum had taken all my dirty laundry. The gun was in place
but I got all hysterical. I put Bush in the stereo and
started cursing Philip to hell trying to find a place to
hide it. I was wondering why I'd agreed to take it on the
first place and thought it might have something to do with
being in the same room with Philip, a gun and all this
alcohol. Pathetic bloodsucker. I should've told him to go
fuck a tree. Belief in god my ass. For some reason he always
has to be the most tortured in the room, he'll invent
himself problems to fit in with a crowd! And what the fuck
do I have to do with all this, just because I'm a bartender
I have to take everyone's bull? It suddenly occurred to me I
was babysitting a lot of people for someone who wasn't what
you'd call the image of stability. I turned Gavin off and
went to the pub to give him back his piece.

The gun in my belt I'm walking through the park and pass a
bench inhabited by three mean looking teenagers without
giving it much though.  A few seconds later I hear voices
behind me, something about homos and realize the three are
tailing me. I'm having a flashback of Asaf coming home after
being beat up one night and his description of the
perpetrators. One glance and I know it's them. And they're
getting closer.  I keep a steady rhythm and slowly pull the
gun out of my belt loading it very silently and one of them
grabs my arm. Next thing he knows there's a gun pointing at
his face. I feel beautiful, my arm is as steady as pole and
I'm in complete control. "How does it feel mother-fucker?"
the guy's face is twitching and his friends are backing up
slowly. "Don't fucking move" I look at them and they stop.
The guy starts giggling ridiculously and says something like
"you wouldn't dare". "Oh no?" his friends are moving closer
to me, I switch the safety "are you trying me?" the others
are closing in. "Yeah" he says and a drop of sweat trickles
down his face. "Okay" I smile, lower the gun and shoot right
through his hip. He screams falls to the ground holding his
leg with both hands while his two loyal mates run each in a
different direction yelling for help. I look at him for a
few seconds more say good night shoving the gun back in my
pants and walk away.

Philip understood that I couldn't keep the gun and took it
back. I told him he should trust himself and he's just going
through a bad period. He lowered his head and said thank you
anyway. I gave him one of these army hugs and drank my beer.
The next morning as I walked to work I noticed a dark red
stain on the floor next to a tree. It wasn't too big so I
knew the guy didn't bleed to death. And I knew he wasn't
going to press charges, this was all a little humiliating
for him to be gunned down by a freak or homo, whatever he
thought I was. My smile only faded when I saw the look on my
boss's face when I came in one minute late.