Event: Shooting range
Annie Oakley ain't got nothin' on this cowgirl! This week I did something I've always wanted to do - go to a shooting range. I've never shot a gun, but I've always been curious about what it'd be like. So I asked my dad to take me to a shooting range. I was excited, anxious, nervous, maybe even a little scared. I mean, what if I was "that girl" that accidentally dropped the gun and shot some guy's toe off? It could happen.
Unsure if we would be greeted by Tony Soprano or John Wayne, I was surprised to see we were greeted by both! The first guy that helped me was a true cowboy. He had Skoal in his lip and every 10 seconds he'd lean over and spit into a bucket on the floor. Neat. He had two guns on his belt and a camouflage ball cap. Yee Haw. The second guy that helped me was named Guido. I swear. He was about 12 feet tall, had a pony tail and sideburns three inches thick. But don't be mistaken, his rose colored glasses made him a true bad ass. He too had 2 guns on his belt and enough ammo around his waist to fight a war. I wasn't sure if I felt safe or scared to death.
Guido and John Wayne walked me through holding a gun, loading a gun, shooting a gun and unloading a gun properly. My palms were sweaty and I had wished they had instructed me on how to not drop the gun but oh well. I put on my stylish safety goggles and ear protection and suddenly I looked like I should be landing planes. Apparently I won't be picking up today.
We were escorted into the shooting range where 3 others were shooting targets in their individual booths. I couldn't believe how loud the gun shots were, even with my landing gear earmuffs. As I stepped up to my own booth, John Wayne attached my target to the target hanger and sent it out about 15 feet. He then tried to review the steps but I couldn't hear him and before I knew it, I was up. I loaded the gun (scary), pushed the barrel into place (scarier), held it with my right hand (seriously almost dropped it), quickly added support with my left hand (now both hands are shaking like I have early stages of Parkinson's), I pointed the gun towards the target, spread my feet apart, bent my knees (my legs are jell-o by the way), leaned forward, closed my eyes and pulled the trigger! HOLY SHIT! I did it.
When I opened my eyes I immediately looked at my dad and Wayne. Wouldn't you know it my first shot hit the bulls eye. Unbelievable. It was down hill from there but boy was that fun. Before I knew it, I was twirling the gun on my finger, tossing it under my legs, shooting it behind my back, blindfolded....just kidding.
I did get a little confident after a while and that's when Guido called me over and pulled his own gun out of his holster. Oh crap. It was big. It had a barrel as big as a Chipotle burrito and the bullets were the size of baby carrots. Sweet baby Jesus I was in trouble. I smiled and said "That's ok." And he was like, "You're doing this." So me and my Parkinson hands walked up to the booth, picked up his gun and I couldn't believe how heavy it was. To add insult to injury I was like a 5th grader trying to reach the pedals of the car. My pointer finger could barely reach the trigger. I gritted my teeth, squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the trigger. The kickback sent me into the middle of next week and I missed the target completely but it was a thrill of a lifetime.
As my dad I were driving home giving each other high fives, we passed three cops on the side of the road stopping speeders. We quickly had heart attacks thinking how we'd have to explain the gun in my lap...