Grace and I finally spent some quality time together. I had my first lesson at Jackson Arms with the gentle, yet slightly goofy, McKee. Our date started with gun safety then moved on to the repetitive task of locking, loading, chambering, unloading, reloading, aiming, breathing and pretending to shoot. That lasted about 30 minutes and it was on to playing dress up.
In my sassy clear glasses and my slightly spongy ear muffs we moved on to the range. McKee offered me a myriad of targets to choose from; Zombie Lil, Zombie John, Victim Sarah held by Zombie Lil, Victim Sam held by Zombie John....you get the idea, Zombies are very popular on the range.
In the end I chose a simple target with a tiny little green dot in the middle and 5 circles working their way out to the non-safety zone. McKee explained that the green dot was an A++ and as you moved out it went down from there. He then asked me what kind of grades I got in school. I just stared at my shoes.
McKee shot the first round out of Grace and I jumped. She is extremely loud and the shell came out of the chamber and bopped me on the head. Who knew? Once he showed me the "stance" he had me take aim and take my first shot. I am pretty sure I closed my eyes because I hit the target on the 5 and stomped my foot. Seeing my childish reaction he had me reload and refocus, hold a half breath and slowly squeeze. This time I hit the 3. A solid C. The flash from a .45 is very bright and the shell hit me in the shoulder this time.
He then had me load three bullets. This time I shot double-action. A lot harder and a lot longer before Grace went BOOM and the sizzling shell flew straight down my shirt and I did what is referred to as the "hot breast dance". I did manage to set my gun down safely before I performed my jig. Points for me and applause from my fellow rangers.
I went back to single action and I began to get closer to the green dot. I was earning a B+ when McKee asked me if I was an over-achiever in high school and if all the boys followed me around like little puppy dogs. Why yes and yes, I was and they did. After that my shots went to shit. Besides the fact that I had already spent 80 rounds and my arm was on fire, he pumped up my ego and that always trips me up. By the 100th round I am pretty sure I hit the target in the lane next to mine. No one mentioned it.
As I was checking out I asked McKee what he shot. A Glock 9 of course. I asked him why and he said "when you get older it just gets harder to shoot .45's. It tires you out really quickly." So glad my first gun is a cannon.
xoks
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