1026libgun

The Day The Big Liberal Fired A Gun
by Jennifer the Insomniac Bartender

After reading your column today, I just had to write and tell you a little story about the day the big liberal,
Jennifer the Insomniac Bartender, did what she thought she'd never, ever do...
drive on over to the local firing range and let loose a round or two.

My dear, sweet, wonderful liberal bartending boyfriend, a true American patriot who already did his time in the Army, has been urging me to go to the firing range ever since the first days after 9/11. He wanted to show me that firing a gun isn't at all scary and doesn't in the least bit compromise the liberal principles I hold dear, and set out to prove himself right just this last Monday. After a tense meal at the local Bob Evans, we drove over to Target World and did a bit of gun shopping. Lemme tell ya, a trip to the GunMart is more than a little bit intimidating for a grrl like me. First of all, it took less than five minutes of gun shopping before the camo-wearin' semi-scary dude behind the counter started bashing Clinton, saying that now is a good time to look at used guns because people are selling them now that they're not at all worried that the BigDog is going to take their guns away. Ahhh, irony. Deciding that one wisely chooses battles, we chuckled to ourselves and kept our traps shut. We finally decided upon renting a lovely Smith & Wesson .22 revolver, bought some ammo and targets, and off we went.

After a few minutes of gun safety lessons from my own sweet former soldier boy, I was loadin' up that gun and firing away. Know what? It wasn't at all scary, it wasn't really that loud (it was a .22, fer Koresh sakes), and it felt, oh, I dunno, sorta liberating. And, well, honestly, it was fun. After a half-hour or so of shooting targets, we turned the gun back in, started looking at some semi-automatics (I really didn't care for that wimpy .22 revolver, honestly), made some notes on prices and drove back home to discuss.

Wow, bartcop. I'm going to buy myself a gun. I can't even believe it's come to this. But I'm not afraid of guns anymore,
and since you completely back up my boyfriend's argument (which goes something like "Baby, there's nothing wrong with self-defense, and while I wouldn't have been buying a gun on September 10 because I really wasn't afraid of random criminals back then, we live in a new world now, martial law isn't a far-fetched wacky idea owned only by the right wing anymore, and the ability to shoot a gun is a valuable, crucial skill to have in times like these"), I'm feeling extremely confident now that this is the right thing to do. In fact, in the past few days, as I've watched this administration bungle, lie, cover-up and bungle some more, I've actually come to believe that owning a gun is imperative. I would have never thought of buying a gun in the days before September 11, when I was asleep, as we all were, in the figurative sense.

Carry on, soldier, and cheers,
Jennifer the Insomniac Bartender :-)

Jen, a few years ago, I took my Bertanelli .38 to the shooting range.
As I always do, I laid the gun down on the shooting shelf and when it
was time to fire it, I pretended I was having to grab my gun in a hurry
and fire it at some ditto-mobkey who needed dying.

Well, I grabbed it and pointed it at the paper target and tried to pull
the trigger but nothing happened. The gun had gotten some moisture
in it and something inside rusted making the gun only good for throwing
like the criminals used to do at Superman.

I was heavily into my ADM money at the time so I hustled down to
the twice weekly gun conventions they have here (it fills the largest
non-pillared building in the United States) and bought myself a Glock.

Not to be sexist or anything (who, moi?) but a Glock feels like a woman's
breast in my hand. It feels perfect. It's balanced, it's smooth, it's rounded
at all the right parts and it becomes an extension of my hand.

Anyone who has ever played pool for money knows the value of a fine cue stick.
The stick won't do anything for you in you can't shoot pool, but if you can,
the right stick, smooth and balanced in your hand, will become an extension of
your hand and the cue ball will go where you want it to go.

Before you or anybody buys a gun, get the feel of it.
If it doesn't feel perfect, don't buy it.

When I had more money than brains, (cough) I bought a Dirty Harry 44 Magnum
with the six inch barrell. Trust me, I'm not man enough to fire that gun.
I'd need to carry a tripod with me to fire it.
Plus, it's got a kick like Cuervo silver.

But that Baby Glock is absolutely perfect.

It's the Porsche of handguns.