With that said I headed out to complete one of my bucket list check offs. I realize many people have shot guns.
BANG!!! hit a plate
BANG…hit a watermelon….
drink some Schlitz…
PING….hit a Schlitz can.
That is the norm, but I'm not always normal. I shot a shotgun ONCE in my life.
I was 10 years old or so, and my redneck hunting brothers said, "here, shoot this rifle". There was no gun safety, I'm pretty sure there were people all over.
"Where do I shoot it?"
"Just aim down the dirt road and shoot."
Hindsight is amazing. Aim down the road and shoot….seemed perfectly A-OK back then. Who gives a shit if a car is coming. This is redneckville Florida, they probably have bullet proof windows.
I remember the weight of the rifle. Not a clue in my mind as to what I was doing. KABaaaaAAAm!
Rifle UP…
Ass on the ground
Hysterical laughter from the brothers and
the screaming of me " I'M TELLING MOMMMMMM!" It took at least 2 weeks for the bruise to fade.
It has been many years, and my fear of guns has never faded. I'm very serious about not having guns around. They scare the shit out of me. With that in my back pocket I set out to conquer one part of my bucket list: To learn how to really shoot a gun…really, like if someone was after me, I could Angelina Jolie their ass and curve that bullet right into their head, looking all sexy and stuff. .. so I headed to the Defensive HandgunTraining of Colorado…without a gun and without a damn clue.
Up to this weekend I had never had a gun in my hand, except for the rifle at 10. I picked up an airsoft gun a few months ago and shot 2 shots then started demanding, "Everyone be careful…You can put a goddamn eye out with that thing!!!!" Ruining the party that was so much fun 7 minutes ago.
I signed up and recieved a list of the equipment to bring to class. First on the list: 150 rounds of 9mm shot. Hmmmm . The List suggested I head to Walmart (of course it did). This, on its own, is a nightmare for me. I go to Walmart as often as I buy ammo or shoot a gun…But, I put my big girl panties on, checked myself in the mirror to make sure I wouldn't end up on "People of Walmart" and headed out. I arrived at the 3rd World Country Parking Lot, parked where my car wouldn't get dinged, opened the car door, checked the ground outside my door for melted chocolate churros, gum, or vomit…and carefully made my way inside to the "sporting goods" section.
Pre Walmart, a friend had clued me in," They won't sell you Ammo if you wear a bra." (thanks Kelli)
So, I was hoping Mr Eighteen Zitty would not notice I had a bra on because I needed this stuff for my class.
I had to wait in line because apparently the ammo counter is the busiest place within Walmart, short of the $4 prescription counter and the Icee machine. Mr Zitty looked at me and I stood up tall ,without giving away the bra fact and said, "Bullets, please."
"Um, yeah….what kind?"
"For a gun…I'm taking a class"
silence….dumb look….me, shuffling a bit….
"Wait, a minute, here…I have a list."
I hand him my neatly folded list, with nothing checked off.
As I hand it over I wonder, is this the list of a serial killer? Shit! No, this is Walmart, they are good with this stuff. I watch Mr. Zitty….He does not appear to reach his hand under the counter to hit a special button. I relax a bit. He acknowledges the list with a small nod.
"Ok, cool. How many you want?"
"I don't know, how do they come?" I think to myself, do they come in packs of 3 or do you buy 1 bullet at a time?
The guy behind me starts making weird noises. "look, I DON'T know. What do you think? How much are they?" He starts pulling out boxes of 9mm shot, explaining what they do, what they are good for and the price. He never once mentions what they will kill. "jeeeeesus, just give me the cheapies and give me 3 boxes. " I turn around and smile at the guy behind me who apparently is irritated.
"52$"
I pay and think how that is not too much for 3 boxes of bullets. I walk out of the store feeling weird. Like I have commited a crime, but I haven't. I glance at my list. It says I need a gun belt and glasses. I'm not going back in there, no way. I'm all ready in the parking lot…groovy cool belt and Chanel shades will have to work.
I get to my car and throw the bullets in the side seat. I start the car and glance over. Hmmm. I turn the car off, grab the bag, then put the bullets in the back of the car. You know, just in case they implode, better chance of survival…plus I have a 6 pack of beer in the back seat if I get pulled over the beer, Walmart bag, and 3 boxes of bullets are not what I want on my first criminal record.
Home safely, I unpack everything and leave it on the kitchen table. All day I walk by it thinking about how bad ass I am. I have bullets on the table.
"It wasn't me". I come down the stairs to see the teen in the kitchen holding a box of bullets.
"put those down! you might drop them!" he laughs and puts them back on the table, "Why, you don't really think they will blow up do you?" "of course not, just don't touch them….they are for my class"
"Cool, what are you shooting?"
"Damnit Ilin, I don't know…just put them down, you are making me nervous"
"ok, Ok…tell them you want to shoot Zombies."
I put the bullets back in the bag and then decide to put them back into the back of the car. Locked.
I'm never going to make it to this class.
Yeah, shoot Zombies. perfect.
Little did I know…Zombies.
…to be continued
