Jaynee's Gotta Gun...

So....I'm working out at Hobb's Grove - doing my best impression of Ebeneezer Scrooge: counting, sorting, depositing. Got into a discussion with a friend of mine that is doing security out there on where she carries her gun. (Yes, she).

"You gotta gun?" one of the newbies inquired.

"Yup," I say.

"You know how to shoot?" he quips.

Do I know how to shoot?!!?!?

Voldemort always had guns -- they weren't something I grew up around, but I (and he) felt that if they were in the house, I should know how to use one. I've pulled my gun out to use
(::shiver shiver::)

twice -- but those are stories for another time. The story today is about GUN CLASS.

What am I doing here, I panicked, why am I taking this class again? Oh yeah, because Voldemort thought it would be good.

In "This class" we would be learning how to shoot at a moving three-dimensional targets. I had agreed to go because I thought it would be fun. It looked fun -- all they way until I realized the makeup of the class: 7 males (all involved in law enforcement) and 2 females, other than myself.

One of the girls was the daughter of a local gun-store proprietor.

The other was one of the first female highway patrol muckymucks.

no pressure.

::footsteps running from class back to the car::

"Mike"

"What are you doing out of the class, Jayne?"

"Mike, give me the 9MM.

"What's wrong with your .38?"

"Hey, it's fine at home but crap for this class! Give me the 9MM!"

"Jayne-it's too big for you."

That is so-o-o like him -- size envy....

"Mike - I am NOT using my little 5-rounder with all of them! I'll be constantly reloading! Now give me the frickin' gun!"

He did, and I rejoined my class, as they were introducing themselves, and giving the reason(s) why they took the class:

"I wanted to learn to shoot my gun responsibly."

"I'm in law enforcement, and this kind of training is crucial to my job."

"I'm always looking for ways to improve."

B - O - R - I - N - G......

"Jayne?" prompted the instructor, "how 'bout you? Why are you here today?"

Of course...I could have gone with any of the stock answers above.....but have you ever known me to be stock anything?

"Jayne?"

"Well," I responded, "my husband made me take this class. He wanted to make sure that there were lots of witnesses to my gun skills.....so that.....so that I could never say that I accidently shot him."

Laughter, comfortable and uncomfortable broke out amongst the ranks. Both the women smiled and nodded.

Four hours later, I'm ready for my test: I will step up to the line. The Driller Dan will start Mr. Dummy moving, and call off three targets (combination of head and/or chest shots). I will have 5 seconds to draw my weapon and fire off four rounds.

Of course, Voldemort has returned to watch.

"Jayne!" calls Driller Dan, "you're up!"

I step up to the mark, and he calls out,

"Jayne! Two head shots, one chest shot. GO!"

I swear I could hear the theme music from Chariots of Fire...you remember:

Dum DUM da-da-da-DUM-da....

and I felt myself go all slo-mo/Kung Fu/Matrix:

I drew my weapon, released the safety on the way up, keeping my eye on the center of Mr. Dummy's face, firmly gripped the 9 with both hands, fired off two shots, dropped my aim ten inches

(::shiver shiver::)

and squeezed the trigger twice.

It seemed forever for Mr. Dummy to stop twisting and turning so that Driller Dan could inspect my shots.....

Mr. Dummy....was dead.

Driller Dan walked up to Mike.

"Mike?"

"Yes?"
"Even though you've got all the witnesses you need.....you should be afraid. Be very afraid...."

yes,yes. Jayne had got all four rounds off: 2 headshots and 2 to the chest.