Saturday, June 6, 2015

My 99-Cent Kill Tool

Yesterday, I went with my good friend "P"—who is not a prepper—to SOS Survival Products (click here)  in Van Nuys, California (91406) for their parking lot sale despite the fact that my mother and I had gone there a week earlier.

SOS Survival Products’ store is easy to find (15705 Strathern Street #11). You can call them (800-479-7998) to ask about product availability or place an order—you can do it online too—or you can email them (sos-info@sosproducts.com / click).

I am in no way affiliated with SOS Survival Products nor am I being compensated in any way as I extol their virtues.

I follow a number of survival stores on Twitter and many of them follow me back. I am not saying SOS Survival Products is better.

What I am saying is that SOS Survival Products has my business for a variety of reasons.

I prefer to buy in person, though I am not averse to buying online.

I also try to buy local whenever possible, but Bakersfield does not currently have a dedicated survivalist store and I am too lazy to go from store to store to store to bird dog what I can get at SOS Survival Products in one spot.

I also like road trips and road trips combined with shopping are the bee’s knees.

Back to "P"…

"P"—a man half my age—was bemused by my prepper ways. He currently has no interest in prepping and he does think preppers live in Cloud Cuckoo Land, but to some he’s a resident of Cloud Cuckoo Land himself—and he gets that.

Thus, when I invited him to go, instead of recoiling in disgust, his beady eyes beamed at the opportunity to infiltrate a new milieu.

Because "P" is extremely non-judgmental, he is probably one of the few people that lets people be who they are no questions asked.

SOS Survival Products was bustling with action when we got there—and knowing that "P" had a shelf life with his patience—I quickly grabbed what has on my list and we got into the L O N G check-out line.

We were in line probably a half hour—not because of staff incompetence—but because there were that many people there buying that much stuff.

Ten feet from the check-out counter, I saw industrial strength tent stakes for 99 cents and said: “What an amazing weapon!”

I grabbed one for each car.

"P’s" face immediately lit up with devilish mischief and quizzical interest.

I grabbed one of the sharp spikes in my fist and noted how easily I could stab someone.

"P" said: “You could kill someone with them.”

He wasn’t recoiling. He was grinning at the ingenuity.

His mind was thereby engaged. "P" has knives. Don't tell him that he's a protosurvivalist.

Both of my cars have a tent stake in the center console along with the glass-breaking hammers I have written about before.

I now have two options for responding should attackers approach me while I am in my car.

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