I'm back. And now I'm writing about Firsts. First Time Ever Experiences. So...I'll begin with...GUNS!
Me plus a gun. There's really no ring to it. I'm against the death penalty. It's a combination of feeling like we (people) aren't god (or the universe or whatever you believe or not), so how can we take a life? This along with the fact that error occurs all the time. There are no take backs in the death penalty. This second fact, the error fact, should negate the whole death penalty thing in my opinion. I'm also not down with war. However, if someone I love is killed, I'm gonna want to kill the person(s) that did it. I think that's natural. But to behave like that on a society-level has far reaching consequences. And I'm not suggesting we become vigilantes either. I'm just saying I understand feeling that way. Ok. Enough about that...
My first experience with a gun was when my friend Robert showed me his 357 Magnum. It actually made me feel sick. And really scared. I kept thinking it's a death machine, a machine made for killing humans. I watched him pass the gun back and forth with my boyfriend at the time. They checked the barrel each time to see if it was loaded. The gun never left their sight, it was just habit. From the army. A super wise habit. As I watched them, a change came over me. I wanted to be photographed with the gun. Yeah. It didn't happen, but interesting how quickly things can change.
Jump 20+ years into the future - I just went to the LA Gun Club with my friend Mitch. He's an expert with guns. Thank god. I can't imagine going to the range (yeah, I call it the range now) with someone who wasn't.
We cruised in on a Saturday morning. I might have been wearing lace up motorcycle boots, a black miniskirt and a tshirt. In fact I was. The walls were covered with shotguns and machine guns. The glass counters were filled with hand-guns. I was immediately scared. Truthfully, I was scared before we got there.
They had us each fill out a form. I can't really remember what it said, but I'm sure there must have been a clause stating that I took responsibility for the chance that someone might just shoot me, I might just shoot someone, or myself (maybe not...). What I do remember are the three little check boxes about what your expertise was. And of the three I checked: Beginner. Mitch checked: Expert.
We got a little plastic carrier/basket that had a Walther PPK in it, ear protection and eye protection for both of us as well as ammo. I carried the Tactical Remington 12-gauge Shotgun that we chose at the last minute “for fun.” You have to carry it with the barrel pointing towards the ceiling. I couldn’t believe how heavy it was. And I kept having the sensation it was slipping out of my hand. I was afraid to put it down when we entered the range, so I just stood there holding it until Mitch took it from me and set it on the counter.
When we entered the actual range, there was a moment of silence, not because of us, it just happened. We approached Booth 6. And then someone started shooting – a shotgun. Holy crap. So fucking LOUD. So loud you could FEEL IT. Thank god for the ear protection. And even with that, I jumped every time the guy shot. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. How the hell was I going to shoot the shotgun?
But first, the Walther PPK (of course I had to have the James Bond gun). Mitch showed me how to load it, showed me the safety, how and why to cock the gun (to make it more automatic). And how to aim.
Ok. Here we go. I stood back and watched Mitch shoot the first ten rounds. Watched the casings fly out of the gun, sometimes followed by a little flame. He was good at it. Made it look easy. Ok. Now it's my turn. I loaded the clip. It wasn't easy. The spring was really hard. I actually felt like a bit of a weakling at the range. I have to say though, jamming the clip in, once loaded, made me feel like a hard-boiled detective or at the very least an Angel of Charlie.
And then we sent my target downrange. You get a wide selection of targets. I couldn't choose one that looked like a person - even if it looked more cartoon than man. So this day, we were gonna be hunting zombies. I took my stance, pulled the hammer back, aimed, took a deep breath and as I exhaled, I pulled the trigger. BANG. WOW. SCARY. At this point, I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it all the way through the ammo. I kept thinking these are like cannons. Tiny, hand-sized cannons. But I did it. 10 shots, downrange, right at my zombie nemesis. I was surprised by the kick of the gun. The noise. I kept thinking that anyone in the booth could just turn and shoot their neighbor…but then I’d redirect my focus to the zombie in front of me. Focus. When I gave the gun back to Mitch for his second turn, my hands were shaking.
We made it all the way through the ammo. (It took me getting to my second round of ammunition before I realize that I needed to close one eye to aim. I was almost cross-eyed by the time I figured this out.) I felt a little victorious. I did it! But I couldn’t be relieved just yet, I knew what was coming next… THE SHOTGUN. I really didn’t think I could do it. I was so shaky from shooting the handgun, how would I be able to manage the shotgun? What if the kick was so big both me and the shotgun went flying?!
Mitch showed me how to load it. Way easier. Kinda fun. He showed me the safety, how to hold the gun, everything I needed to feel safe and sure. I didn’t feel safe and sure. (By the way, the shotgun was half my size. I’m small.) We had ten bullets. Mitch took the first two shots. Holy shit. And after each shot you pull the pump action and the used casing flies out. Cool. And the pump action alone, Totally Cool. That's a sound we all recognize from the movies.
I took my stance and aimed the Tactical Remington 12-gauge downrange, took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. Mitch was standing right behind me. It’s a good thing as the kick from that gun was huge. I took a giant step back from it. Cannon is RIGHT! I went to hand the gun back to Mitch and he said, “Are you sure?” I wasn’t. I shot one more time and then handed the gun back knowing that was enough for me that day. That was my limit. But I did it. And I’d do it again. In fact, I will.
When we got near the counter I asked Mitch to take a picture of me cuddling up to the shotgun. The guys behind the counter, who were fabulous by the way, offered to let me pose with an AK-47. But I declined. The picture with the shotgun turned out great. I looked super sexy and shockingly comfortable.
