I Shot a Gun Today

Recently my husband has become interested in guns.  He joined a shooting club/indoor range near us and goes to shoot his gun, a 9mm Taurus, there, or he goes to an outdoor range in Chattanooga to shoot a .22 rifle. 

I am not overjoyed about this, but I did promise him I would learn to shoot the gun.  Today I fulfilled my promise and did something I have never done before.

Of course, I have shot pellet guns and bee-bee guns before.  But not "real" guns.  Hence, my experience today.

First, we must protect our ears.  My husband pushed little foam pellets into my ears before we left, and when we arrived at the range, he gave me "headphones" to wear as well.  That was good, because once I signed the paper (which I didn't read, but I figure it absolved them of responsibility if I were killed), we went into the "shooting room" where one other man was shooting.  Soon we heard his gun.  My husband said it was a .45, and in the enclosed area it sounded like a cannon and sent me back against the wall in shock.  But I soon grew used to it, since the man shot frequently.  My husband attached the paper target to the "clothesline" and sent it back six yards, for my sake.

He shot five or six times.  Of course, I had never been so close to a real gun shooting, so it was extremely loud.  Even more, I didn't realize that the casings would eject and hit us on the head.  I think I always assumed the just fell to the ground, perhaps being ejected through the barrel with the bullet, one dropping and one going forward.  So, the volume and the casings were my first lesson.

My husband had already given me a tutorial at home about loading the gun, pulling back the top to be sure the bullet was or wasn't in the barrel, etc.  But shooting is, if anything, a kinesthetic process, so no amount of talk could have prepared me.  I have not been getting much sleep lately so my hands shook slightly; being so close to deadly weapons wasn't helping either.  However, now it was my turn, so I prepared to shoot, getting the grip right (no easy chore for me), aiming slowly (again, not easy because I don't have the world's greatest eyesight), placing my finger correctly on the trigger, and finally, firing.

A flash.  My husband later said I moved back two feet.  But I did not, as I feared, allow the power of the gun to push my hand back and therefore miss.  I hit the target more or less where I hoped (somewhat to the left, like southeast of the point I wanted).  I shot three times, then let him do several (he shoots quickly in succession, while mine are thirty seconds apart).  Then I tried it again for three times, and one of them would have incapacitated the victim's manhood, if you get my drift.  I didn't move back the second time. 

I shot a gun.  I liked it, and will do it again.  But I don't like guns in my house.

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