Ben took me to the range to shoot a gun tonight. It was my very first time. When I found out we were going I wasn't too emotional about it. Not until we got to the range and everyone was carrying and I saw all the people lined up inside the shooting range raising hell on a lineup of disfigured targets. There I was, caught like a dear in headlights. "Oh dear Lord...am I next?" I was dressed like I was going to yoga class. I did not look like these people, I was not serious, I had no camo on, I know little about caliber and absolutely nothing about how to even hold a gun, let alone shoot it. Bright pink down sweater, yoga pants, obnoxiously green sneakers..."What am I doing here?" I tried to play it off, like I was cool about it, totally, yeah, whatever, "that's a cute...assault rifle" I would say. I've never so much as heard a gun shot, or seen a weapon drawn in my presence. So, I was a little uneasy, like a fish out of water. I didn't want to make it seem as if I was this obnoxious liberal brat who cried at the sight of pistol. BECAUSE I'M NOT. I am just so used to my safe little nobody can hurt me cause I live in North Clovis and my neighbors are cops and doctors bubble. Everybody was just walking around with guns like it was cell phone or something. Totally no biggie. So I tried my best to put my big girl pants on and walked into the room with Ben. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Someone opened the door to the range without checking to see if we had our ear protection on first. Yes, I screamed a little...and maybe a little pee came out. Not sure. "Brush it off...brush it off...don't be a baby in front of all these people, and definitely don't check to see if you peed your pants, that's gross, why are you being gross right now, be a MAN!....Oh God this is so stressful, please give me some courage!"
Ben shows me how to load his gun, a Glock something something. It was big, too big for my hands. Reluctantly I insert the magazine (that's what they call the little doohickey that holds the bullets...why would they name it that?). After getting me acquainted with he gun, Ben says ,"Ok go for it". "Uh...come again? You sure ? Me? Uhm well, ok." So I point at my victim err..target, Try to aim (and failed)...little squeeze and.. BOOOM!!!And a shell flies up in the air and down my shirt. "Ok, a little loud, I'm still alive, all body parts accounted for, ok lets try again."
Fast forward to 200 rounds, and 3 guns later that night. I'm still terrible at shooting. Although I can do some damage to someones face if they are 7 ft away from me, as evident in the above photo.
I didn't know I was afraid of guns, or the sound of gunshots. But, definitely more education and being exposed to them will help pacify my nerves. A shotgun is definitely the way for me too go....
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