growing up in manhattan and moving to the most rural part of south carolina in my late teens, you can imagine im not the brightest bulb when it comes to outdoor activitys. unless ofcourse you consider running from undercover narcs in washington square park, an outdoor activity.
when in rome....
So Im given a single shot 12 gauge shotgun. complete with a case, gun polish, rag, and....shells.
next day, i go out and by a full suit of camo, some fu'cking moose caller, and a pair of triple insulated, waterproof, coldproof, bulletproof, 24karat hunting boots. Needless to say the salesman saw this yankee comin a mile away.
Im out in the woods behind our property, full gear and all. I have my golden lab with me, which she doesnt know jacksh*t about any of this nonsense either. (shes used to chasing pigeons in central park, not wild game in the low country)
So about 8 hours into my trek i have no fu'ckin clue where i am, some spontenious thunder storm rolled in and back out, im soaked head to ankles, and i havent seen my dog in awhile.
I have 2 shells left (i was shooting at leafs, and flying insects the whole time) All of a sudden theres a water moccasin curled up about 10 feet away on a dry spot of land in this godawful scented bog i was ankle deep in. The only thing going for me at this point is i have dry feet! woo F'n hoo.
I shoot the snake from about 10 feet away. I suppose I wasnt close enough to obliterate it to smitherines, and i **** this reptile off something fierce. It proceeds to come full fledge at me. I think "fu'ck! ballsy snake!" snake is probably thinking "fu'ck! sumnabeetch shot me!" so its not a good situation. As im lost, wet, petless, 1 shell left, and i got a big bad mofo'ing snake headed straight for me. I take a couple steps back trying to load my last shell and i drop it in the bog.
Heres where the cliche horror movie move happens...
I turn to run away frantic, obviously by the events that just unfolded and......I trip!
I bet you've never seen a mud covered man beat a snake with the end of a shotgun so fast in your life.
I wait out that night perched in a tree top. When dawn came i climbed a little higher only to see, way out in the distance, some smoke rising from somewhere. I followed that direction until i came upon some VERY sketchy hillbilles on their property, and what appeared to be a small time salvage yard / smokery. Hrrmm "id like to dump my old wreck of a car, and buy a pound of your finest smoked cheese please!"
I get a ride home (which i was about 7 miles from where i started) only to be met by my trustworthy companion wagging her tail at my front door.
Point: scariest time in my life.
Moral: dont buy a moose caller from some sleazy salesman in a region of the united states where moose dont exsist :)