A 9mm Ruger SR9c was the one I picked out, based on my wish list of features (thumb safe, no hammer and an indicator for the chamber to let me know if it’s loaded). I wish I could have the 2 tone, but the black was what I brought home (I was too excited to wait for the other color)
While I’m pretty stoked to have my very own gun now, the first time I went shooting left me with a bruise instead of a smile.
LT Fromage and I had only been dating about a month when he invited me to go to the shooting range with him, his dad and little brother. Down for trying, and wanting to impress my new beau, I went along. Despite it being an outdoor range on a December day in Colorado, I wouldn’t wear a coat*. I later wished I had the padding of some kind of outerwear, because it was cold and we were shooting a rifle.
*I have a problem with coats. I find them terribly uncomfortable, since most of them pinch my inner elbow. I’d rather just be cold. LT Fromage finally found me a coat that doesn’t pinch. We got it when we went for our outdoor engagement pictures. In February. In Kentucky. Now I have a coat.
I learned something important that day: when shooting a rifle, hold the butt as close to your body as you possibly can. It WILL kick back and it WILL hurt.
LT Fromage showed me how to hold and shoot the gun and I followed his instructions word for word the first time I pulled the trigger. I decided my new boyfriend was a fool. Why the H3LL would anyone hold this massive gun so close to their chest when it hurt after shooting? Now, I wouldn’t say anything, because I didn’t want him to feel silly, but the next time I would hold it just a few inches from my, now sore, shoulder area before taking aim.
Anyone who’s shot a rifle should be cringing right now. If you haven’t shot a rifle before, what happened next felt like, what I imagine, being hit by a line backer would feel like. Just a guess.
I didn’t tell LT Fromage. I gritted my teeth and CONTINUED TO SHOOT THE GUN for a few more rounds. For which, I did, as advised, hold the gun as close to my body as I possibly could. Which hurt, because in addition to the kick back, a big purple bruise was forming on my collar bone. And I was cold.
LT Fromage didn’t know about my straying from his direction for some time. It was December, I was wrapped up in sweaters, and we’d only been dating a month so he had no business taking those sweaters off. I finally admitted it, some time later, when he invited me to the range again. We had a good laugh, but took a pistol instead.