so here I am sitting in a Dunkin donuts parking lot in my truck waiting to meet with a customer. In my back seat is my 22 gladiator ready to go in its case. As I sit here I watch crows and sparrows cruising around the lot like they own the place. the dumpster is the starlings turf and the chipmunks have the mulch beds and bushes along the side while a couple squirrels do their thing in the trees. It's like a small bird/vermin gang land out here, and I want to be the Sheriff! Little do they know inside the red pickup I'm twitching like a house cat watching a bird feeder. I want to step out like Arnold in the 80s movie commando and clean house. Why is it that there is alway a plethora where there is no possible way to set up and start shooting. So here I sit with an itchy trigger finger.