“My name’s Bob. Just plain Bob nowadays. I’ve just gotten this car too, I had a nice little Mustang but my woman and I and the kids are moving across country. I got a job driving a truck and they can stay with my brother (I hope.) So I traded the Mustang for this. It’s, ah, bigger.”
“What do you do? I mean, truck driving makes a living, right?” How would I know?
“Oh yeah. Plus it gets me out of the house big time. I used to manage a hardware store but I quit when the owner wanted to unionize the place. And now we got another baby on the way.”
“Where did you learn to shoot?”
“When my Momma died, I was six years old, and my Daddy and I and my sister moved to a farm. His brother had just died and his wife had kids too, so him and her got together and raised all of us together. I’d like to say I learned to shoot there but I didn’t; I learned to say yes sir and no ma’am and got the hell out there as fast as I could.