Monday, November 22, 2004

Ready on the right? Ready. Ready on the left? Ready. The line is ready...

After an evening that made me thoroughly livid last night, and a rather rough workday today, I cut out an hour early to get some range time. Haven't been to the range in almost a year. Let me tell you, nothing says "Feel better, now, kiddo?" like the smell of cordite...

"I once did a dude in Laos. Thousand meters out, high wind. Maybe eight, ten guys in the world could make that shot. It was the only thing I was ever any good at..."

Years and years on the range have made putting steel jacketed lead into the 'X' ring second nature, almost an automated thing. This is not rare, as every man in my family is a natural at it. I even had a great uncle who was an Olympic shooter.

So I'm on the range, doing my thing, and the same thing happens as every other time I'm there. I see silhouettes of people leaning in the observation window watching. The range employees, watching me doing my thing. Some of the other shooters on other target points step away from their target lanes and lean around to look at my targets periodically.

What I love is looking at the other shooters, in uber-rich yuppie Plano, TX, with their expensive firearms and all the trappings, putting groups of shots down range that look like shotgun blasts. The most expensive equipment may get you a better golf score, but it gets you embarrassed on the range, there, Jackson...

So there was a guy on the target point two down from mine who was doing pretty decently, but this guy was cocky. He would bring his target forward to check his groups, but he wouldn't bring the target all the way forward into the partition area; rather, he would leave it out about two feet so all the other shooters could see his work. Schmuck. That was the time for me to pull my signature punk-out. I fed a filled magazine into the H&K, stood back away from my target point so all the shooters could see me without being blocked off by the partitions, turned perpendicular to the target(or as they say in Tejas "Side-a-ways".), slouched, put my left hand in my pants pocket, raised the .45 singlehanded, and started putting rounds into the X ring. Keyholes even. Hehehehehe Oh, a minute ago it was like a pistol range up in this motherfucker...now it's as quiet as a church. Nice try, Gomer.....

I feel so much better now....Thank you Mr. Heckler. Thank you Mr. Koch. You made my day.....

1 Comments:

Blogger lilblackgirl said...

i'll give you a hug, but you gotta put down that cannon first.

Good shooting, shitty shooting. (in my best Smecker voice)

November 23, 2004 at 5:49 AM  

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