I have my very own gun. I grew up watching westerns like "Bonanza", "Big Valley", "High Chaparral", "The Cowboys" and other various and sundry shows that didn't portray guns as being bad. I mean, how funny was it every time Barney Fife fired his gun downward in his holster? I had a cap gun when I was growing up, as did my cousins. When we'd 'get a game going', we'd go through rolls and rolls of caps, shooting at each other or at imaginary bad guys. My parents weren't anti-gun, although they didn't own one. I've never found guns to be any big deal at all. Since I don't have kids, I don't care if they are in my house (my squeeze has several rifles and shotguns, and has always been an avid hunter).
The ex-h gave me a real, western-style revolver for Christmas of 2005. Imagine my surprise to find it under the tree that year! I was puzzled when I saw the wooden box, which contained something very heavy.
I opened the wooden box, saw the weapon and quizzically asked, "Is it real? This is a for real gun? My own gun?" This was also back when we owned the cursed Neilton property, on the Olympic Peninsula. We went out there right after Christmas to stay over for New Years. I remember it was pouring down rain but I was dying to try my new revolver, so Brian set up a beer bottle on a log across the creek and showed me how to use the gun. I blew that sucker to bits on my first try. I always knew I'd be a good shot, even though I'd never fired a gun before (I'm not counting the one disastrous trip to an indoor range in 1999). He was more than a bit surprised.
So I ended up joining the Tacoma Sportsman's Club under Brian's membership. I even made my own beaded ID badge necklace.
In the spring of 2006, after my incessant pestering to take me to the pistol range at the TSC, Brian finally brought me for some target shooting.
As you can see, I am a very good shot.
This was the one, and only, time I ever got to go to the pistol range, because I didn't really want to go alone as there were very few, if any, women at any of the ranges at TSC. I don't think Brian expected me to be so accurate and so he never took me back. I always got the, "Nah, the range is always too crowded" excuse, no matter what time of year I would ask to go. I think his ego was wounded by his wife being a great shot on the first trip to the range.
My squeeze, on the other hand, does not get his manhood wounded so easily, and has promised to take me shooting one of these days.