Ammo

As I was re-organizing the driveway last weekend (Oh, Lord! Will my driveway EVER be clean?), I came across two boxes ammunition. Now WHAT am I going to do with that? Although I know how to use a gun and have been to shooting ranges on numerous occasions, I have no guns, I have no interest in guns, my shootin' days are over. At least that's my plan. So, the question was, what do I do with these boxes of bullets? I called the local police department. The desk sergeant told me it was no crime to have bullets. In fact, it was perfectly legal in this state to sell bullets. You just can't sell guns. Therefore, I could do one of two things: I could bring my collection of bullets down to him at the station or I could sell them. I finished my driveway work and then the kids came over. I temporarily forgot about my munitions. Then at 6:15 I remembered my little errand. I got in the car and drove down to the police department. I had had very clear instructions: Put the ammo in the trunk, not the passenger compartment. Drive to the station. Walk in. WITHOUT the ammo. They would come out to the car with me and get it. When I arrived, the desk sergeant who, by his own admission was a goofy guy, was engaged in a conversation with some man who had had a cashier's check stolen from the mail in Minnesota. The officer was trying to explain that it was in Minnesota's jurisdiction. I had to wait. I was feeling a little impatient. Another officer came out to the desk and, after a while, asked me if he could help me. I explained my task. He then told me that it was 6:45, and his and his partner's shift had ended at 6:30. If I were to have them retrieve my ammo they would have to fill out a big report, and he held up a long piece of paperwork that would be his responsibility to complete should I impose my bullets on him thus causing them to work even longer than they already were, causing them to be even later getting home to their families. I was intimidated. The good little girl in me felt guilty and I was busy scolding myself for having neglected this errand when it would have been a better time in the policemen's shifts, when the desk sergeant completed his task regarding the forged cashier's check. The desk sergeant said not to feel bad about coming in so late and that he didn't mind filling out a report. Ugh. We went out to the car, and I opened the trunk. He went through my 'treasures' and again told me I could sell them. He said people have gotten very angry with him for not telling them how much cash they could make off of bullets. Apparently I have .22 caliber and 9 millimeter bullets. I have hollow tips and full metal jackets. I have child safety locks and gun cases. He said these are all hot ticket items. I could sell them on some websites. I could take them to gun shows and would have them sold before I even had them all unpacked. He said they wouldn't even hit the table at a gun show. Really? Sell them online? Set up a spot at a gun show? Let's suppose for a moment I sell them online. Where do I meet the buyer? At my house? At a local Starbucks? What if someone used my bullets to kill a cop? Or a bunch of schoolkids? This sounds just crazy to me. Selling ammo. Driving around with ammo in my trunk. Throwing my ammo on a table at a local gun show and selling it to crazy survivalists. Or nutjobs. Sheesh. Ah....but then cha-ching! My 'stuff' is worth a few hundred dollars. The Scotsman in me was in a quandary. Money? Aide and possibly abet a murder? Donate to the practice range at the local police station? Cause this nice officer another half hour's work filling out a report? This was tough. I'm still driving around with a bunch of ammo in my trunk.