The Brink

I am standing on the brink, almost ready to jump, staring at the little white sheet of paper in my hands. Do I really want to do this?

'There's no harm in filling it out.' I tell myself as I pick up a pen and begin to write in my height, weight, name, address and all the other little details. 'You don't have to turn it in; if you decide not to.'

No sooner have I signed my name when I find myself headed back to the building. Looks like I'm going to hand this form over to the powers at be after all. I hesitate briefly outside the door and take a deep breath as I push it open. O.K. I am going to do this.

The nice lady at the desk smiles and nods as I hand her the paper. I pull out my checkbook to pay the fee listed on the paper.

"Oh, we don't charge for these in Podunk, Nowhere." she tells me. I'm impressed, surprised, and wickedly gleeful. "I'll give you a call in about a week."

I thank her and leave. So far, nothing has changed.

One week later, I'm retrieving an even smaller sheet of white paper from the same nice lady. It looks like a credit card receipt from the old days when you made them out on carbon paper with a typewriter.  The top line sends a chill down my spine. 'State of Nowhere Pistol/Revolver License'.

It's official. I've taken the leap. I am a CCW permit holder.

Nothing has changed, it's only a little piece of paper after all, but everything is different. Now the journey truly begins.