I shot a gun yesterday.
Last night I went with my husband and another couple to a gun range in the suburbs. The only gun I had touched before was the one my dad kept in his underwear drawer when we were growing up. (Yes, Dad, it was a horrible hiding place. I knew where the bullets were too.)
Anyway, it seemed like a fun night out. At first us ladies were pretty scared. (The guys had both shot before.) But it was just like when I scuba-dived for the first (and last) time: Once I had very specific instructions about how to proceed, I focused closely on that and my nerves fell away. It turns out that I am a very good shot. In the moment, it was definitely fun.
But I am fervently, unwaveringly anti-gun. Only the strictest gun control laws would make me happy. So while I was at
Anyway, it seemed like a fun night out. At first us ladies were pretty scared. (The guys had both shot before.) But it was just like when I scuba-dived for the first (and last) time: Once I had very specific instructions about how to proceed, I focused closely on that and my nerves fell away. It turns out that I am a very good shot. In the moment, it was definitely fun.
But I am fervently, unwaveringly anti-gun. Only the strictest gun control laws would make me happy. So while I was at
