I've really been stepping outside the box, if I do say so myself. I've once again, removed my high-heeled shoes to walk into a less girlie, more tomboy sort of world. Although this time, when I say "tomboy" I actually mean to say "gangster."
I can no longer say I've never shot a gun. (Sorry Mom.)
I entered Continental Arms in Towson during the course of a small panic attack. Up until that actual moment, I was excited...curious...I really just wanted to see if I could hit even hit the target. But walking in, signing the release, handing over my ID that pictures me in the days before I became a gunwoman...I was terrified. I was given safety glasses and earmuffs to lesser the risk of danger. But where's my helmet? My bullet proof vest? My eyesight and hearing will be no good to me when I'm dead, I thought!
I eventually had to stop panicking when I finally got into the "range." (Notice my fancy terms...more to come.) Picture a large room, with 13 lanes (great number when dealing with GUNS), separated only by a little mini 3 ft. wide wall. Technically, at any given time, some stranger could decide they don't like your shirt and take you out. It actually looks like a scene you'd see in prison, minus the ability to freely shoot guns at targets....
Anyway...it took me a while to work up the courage to actually shoot. I think I ended up shooting 10 bullets over the course of an entire hour, where everyone else probably shot that in one run...but that's OK. I had no idea what to expect when I pulled the trigger of the very scary handgun...a ".45" if you really want to get specific. This gun (all guns maybe) definitely has a "kick." What's a kick? Kick your leg. That's a kick. And this is the motion my entire upper body encountered right after I pulled the trigger.
I'm told I hit the target more often than not. I've got a battle wound (long manicured nails and shooting not a good combo.) And today, I've answered to my new nickname of "Sniper." So I'd say think twice before you mess with me...I could be armed and dangerous...
(Sorry Mom.)
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
To me, guns are OK and fine to practice with until people take it to another level and start collecting them and posting pics of them and fetishizing them and generally acting like they're precious things. They are tools, very serious tools. People feel powerful holding them. I wish they'd (not you) feel humble too.
Post a Comment