Saturday, May 26, 2012

#29. Shoot a gun. Friday, May 25, 2012.

I'm starting off with a bang! It was date night last night, and we went to the local shooting range.    I signed the forms, handed over my driving license and watched the 8 minute safety video. There was a great discussion between Mr. Badger and a few of the staff as to which gun I should try, and everyone agreed on the smallest, a .22.  Mr. Badger told me it was used to for shooting squirrels, and was like shooting a bb gun.  Mr. Badger and I agreed that while he was trained with guns by the RAF, it still wouldn't end well if he was teaching me. He wisely paid the extra money for me to have 15 minutes with the safety officer, showing me step-by-step how to load and unload a gun.

Mr. Badger is an avid hunter, and loves his guns.  I hate them.  I was hoping that when he first started talking about hunting that it would be a passing phase.  It wasn't, and the best I could do was insist on a large gun safe for the unloaded guns, and a different safe for the ammunition.  Mr. Badger has wanted me to go hunting with him for a long time, and while I still haven't, I did wonder what it would feel like to shoot a gun. Just once.

We had to put the eye and ear protection on before entering the double doors through to the range, but I really wasn't expecting to feel the vibration from other people's shots in my chest, and even with the ear muffs on, some of those shots were LOUD.  I'm not sure what gun someone was shooting (rifles?) that was so loud but I jumped every time they shot, and prayed that the range wasn't going to get any busier (the lanes either side of me were empty).  I watched the safety officer go through all the steps, how to load, how to unload, how to stand, how to hold the gun, and then it was my turn.

I loaded my five bullets (no more, so I could keep count easily), magazine into the gun, and finger off the trigger.  Feet shoulder width apart, knees bent, elbows bent, leant forward a bit, line up the white dots with each other and the centre of the target, there was a lot to remember!  I remembered Mr. Badger saying something about squeezing the trigger, like a handshake, rather than just pulling it back. BANG!  BB gun my foot! It had a bigger recoil than I was expecting (due to the BB gun comment) but I'd shot a gun, and survived.  As there were four more bullets in the gun, and you can't put a loaded gun down on the table I didn't have much choice other than to shoot four more times.  One of those times it jammed, and thank goodness that safety officer was there to sort that out.  After that the safety officer stepped back, and I was on my own.
(One of my targets, we'll save the zombie target for another day)

The target was nice and close, but Mr. Badger was still impressed with my Annie Oakley type accuracy.  My big fear of shooting someone else's target (or a wall!) never happened, and each time I moved the target farther away.

47 shots later, and I can say I'm really glad I overcame my fear of guns to try shooting one, and I will probably go back and try a different type of gun.

On a different note, I started Flylady yesterday.  Today was "Get dressed to your shoes" day.  Given that it was Saturday with no dancing or baseball to rush out to I wasn't as motivated as I could have been. Still I did it.  7 a.m. on a Saturday, and I'm sat on the couch putting my sneaker and boot on. Billy Roys asks me where I'm going, and I say "You never know when I might need to jump up and save the day".
"Mama, you're so silly.  Dozie (Rosie the dog) thinks you're silly too".  Nice to know my family is right behind me. They'll love it when I start sticking post-it notes on bathroom mirrors and kitchen walls.

No comments:

Post a Comment