There is a story that's been around for a long time about how President Franklin Delano Roosevelt used to deal with people that made him angry. He'd sit down at his desk in the evenings and knock out a letter to these people, telling them what he really thought of them, and then he'd address the envelope and put in in his desk drawer. The next day, or the day after that, he'd have cooled off and he'd destroy the letters. He never sent them. It was just stress-relief for him.
The story came to light after a newly-hired aide, unfamiliar with the President's stress-relief habit, found some of the addressed envelopes containing the letters one day and, like a good aide, mailed them.
I remember the story because, a few weeks ago, I came across an ad for a new gun which I thought would have made the perfect replacement for my Browning 1919, which is on it's way to a new owner as we speak. The price for the newer gun was low enough to make anyone's eyes bug out, and I fired off a reply within hours of it being posted, making an offer conditional on receiving pictures and a paper trail on the weapon. Then, hearing nothing from the poster, I sent another letter the next day, stating that I'd definitely take it. Another day went by, during which I heard nothing, and then the ad was pulled down from the site on which it was listed, suggesting that it had sold to someone even quicker than myself, or that the seller had decided that he was asking far too little for it. In any matter, I was rather pissed at the lack of courtesy in his not replying and letting me know that it wasn't available because I'd spent the better part of three days repeatedly checking my e-mail and wondering.
Vexed, I penned a short but snark-filled e-mail to the poster lecturing him about common courtesy. I was actually about to send it from my work station when a supervisor came into my office, causing me to hastily file the letter under "drafts" and close it out before he saw it. This particular supervisor would frown on my tending to personal business at work and he's extremely anti-gun to boot.
Needless to say, I didn't get back to it right away, which turned out to be a damned good thing. About a week later, I suddenly got an e-mail from the poster telling me that the original buyer had backed out on him and offering it to me at the same price. Oh, Hell yes!
So as I write this, the deal's done, and I'm soon to be the proud owner of something really freaking cool. And I owe it all to my anti-gun boss--who will stroke out and die when he finds out--and to my lack of follow-though in regards to my nasty e-mail...an e-mail which I've just deleted unsent from my work "draft" folder.
So now the countdown begins...come on, NFA Branch!