Please check your guns at the door

I’m a Texan, but I choose never to pack a sidearm on my hip when I go to Walmart because frankly I’m not afraid of being waylaid by the organic summer squash or the bag of beans I plan to cook later tonight alongside a big skillet of cornbread. Truth be told, I’m one of those kinds of Texans who doesn’t pack Big Iron anywhere. I refuse to live my life scared that I’m going to be bushwhacked…