Another wierd one. I don't have that many gun dreams, but when I do, they ain't normal.
I was with my wife and kids on our porch, messing around, and a guy came up in a full body animal suit from a nearby circus, parade, festival or something. He kept trying to get friendly with my kids, standing there, and Mrz Jamz off to the side a bit an me behind the child. He took a panel off the front of his mask so we could see his face. he was a young hispanic looking guy with a bit of an accent. He started to thrust his pelvis forard, and grabbed a bunch of the suit matreial around his crotch and was trying to ge the kids to sniff it when Mrz Jamz and I stepped in and told him to stop it right now and get the fuck out of here.
He didn't, he kept smiling in a greasy way and I noticed he had the frame of a polymer pistol in his hand (not the slide or barrel though). He was reaching into his suit when I went inside where I knew I had my G19 on the kitchen counter for some reason (note: obviously, I do not keep loaded unsecured guns around the house, but I did in this dream). When I came out with my gun held behind me, he was assembling the slide to the frame, still smiling, still talking.
I put the front sight of my G19 on his chest, and noticed that my trigger finger was not fully along the side of the gun but halfway between the slide and the trigger, which I conciously had to move up to the slide. I told him, loudly and firmly to leave, to go away, to get out. He didn't. I finally told him that I was going to shoot if he didn't leave. He made as though he didn't believe me, but he eventually sidled away down the driveway... I was pretty amped at this point, but I was also rather happy that finally I had a reason for Mrz Jamz to appreciate the guns around the house and what their real purpose was.
I watched the guy move lowly away back toward the circus/parade/celebration or whatever, and at the bottom of the hill, maybe 25-30 yards away, he stopped at the front door of another house, his gun still out. He rang the doorbell.
Now I knew that the guy was dangerous, up to no good, and was looking for another target. I didn't think I had time to call 911, and my sight was still on him, and I had to decide. Shoot him before he can enter that home, or let events occur? Technically, it was likely that I would hit the guy, he wasn't that far, wasn't moving, and I felt pretty confident of hitting him when I shot. I knew that it was no longer a self-defense shooting for me, *I* was safe... but that poor family wouldn't be. Constant reading of gun boards and the need to legally and financially protect me and mine makes me conciously not want to shoot unless I have to to save my life or that of a loved one, but meanwhile, feeling the moral need to "do the RIGHT thing", I was putting increasing pressure on the trigger. This battle was going on in my mind when I realized that the trigger was pulled all the way back, and the gun had not fired.
I woke up.
Moral of the story?
In my dreams, Glocks suck!