Yes, We're Packing

One of my bestest friends and I went out shootin' (as they say out there) at the shooting range. We went out for Thursday, Ladies' Night and had a kick-ass time.

I should say that my friend and I are similar but different. Wow, that sounds very stupid. Let me explain. She is more risk-taking than I. She doesn't care what other people think. I try to impress and hate to disappoint. She does what she wants and what makes her happy. I do what I want sometimes but usually try to make other people happy. We balance each other out very well because we meet in the middle. Also, we influence each other just enough to help one another see the other side.

Having said that, I should have expected we would have an interesting night, but I went in figuring we would go out, get our firearms, set up targets, perfect our stances, take aim and target shoot. After all, that's what I did when I went out for the orientation by myself. Instead, she loaded her magazine, held the gun with one hand, turned her head toward me (not the target) and fired off the 10 rounds as fast as possible. Under duress, I, too, fired away with lightning speed. Then I returned to my watchful, careful stance.

We were having a great time. She was firing like crazy while I was carefully aiming to hit the bullseye. She then said, "Ok. Now we're going to hold it like this (picture gangsta movie style) like we're shooting out of a car window."

"No way," I said. I was worried they were going to kick our asses out of there. Afterall, we were using their guns and had promised to take firearm safety seriously as we were ushered into the Annie Oakley Sure Shots.

"Hold it with your left hand and shoot like we're criminals stealing a car," she demanded.

Peer pressure is alive and well - even at age 29 (almost 30, damn it). I finally agreed to hold the gun with my left hand and shoot (but I refused to hold it sideways). It made me nervous though. Hey, I don't do anything with my left hand, let alone shoot a gun.

Our night at the range proceeded from there to Grand Theft Auto and then a little later, Grand Theft Auto: Spanish Version.

I admit, it was fun as hell. We were laughing our asses off. We were at a shooting range in 110 degree heat with safety glasses and ear protection pretending we were gangstas firing our 9s. Pretty damn funny. That's what she's good for - making me relax and forget what other people think. I need that. I need that a lot.