My brother-in-law had just finished telling us about when he gave up his knife.  He had kept it with him always, as a bit of a weapon, but also as a utility.  And the latter he used it for more than the former.  On one occassion, a mentor of his convinced him that carrying it around was really something that he needed to give up, because it was part of an image he was shedding.  So, quite naturally--and bear in mind I don't blame him one iota--he gave up his knife.

As he finished, I couldn't help but be a bit conscious of the Leatherman I keep at my side--always there, always ready for use.  A weapon?!  I think not!  But part of me was tempted to...maybe...just when I'm around my brother-in-law...just put it aside or something.  I didn't bring it up at the time, nor would I.  But then I thought a little bit..should I...should I...should I...maybe just...  Well, I had to think about it some.

After we finished visiting, I headed back to my own city.  As I passed through Temecula, I had to make a pit stop and get a meal.  I went to the mall where I found a stall to...sit down in.  After I had...sat down...the door began to swing open a little, and for privacy I threw the bolt a second time till it clicked, just to make sure.  It was that click that I found a little uncharacteristic, however, and I hoped I hadn't jammed the thing.  I finished my business and then went for the bolt.  Jammed.  Blast it!  Now I was really stuck: I'd either have to crawl out from underneath, or worse yet...call for help!  No thanks!

Then I got a bright idea: I'll just pull out my trusty Leatherman and...

Did you think I had really put it away from me?  NOT A CHANCE!!!  I pulled that sucker out and used the needle-nose pliers to work that piece of garbage loose!