Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Just Call Me Gunslinger McGraw
Me, on the shooting range. I am now in love with a Glock 9.
On our way to and from Philly HUBS and I made stops with our friends Zombie Apocalypse and his wife Gentle Teacher at their home in Ohio. They have actual acres up there, and Lake Erie passes behind their house.
This is their driveway, people!
As much as I love HUBS, it was nice to talk to someone other than him. I know how that sounds, but I did tell him that and he agreed! We both have fairly solitary jobs, and rarely do much talking with other people aside from each other. Zombie and Gentle showed us around their place when we got there (after about eight hours of driving and a few infuriating wrong turns that took us several miles out of our way) and made us an amazing dinner of grilled hamburgers, steaks and chicken with tater tots, Zombie style baked beans and fresh corn on the cob. Crap, y'all. It was so, so good!
Some of their ducks at the watering hole.
They have three dogs, a cat, ducks that they use for eggs, blueberry bushes and tons of flowers. They just moved in back in January. The house already had a guest room and a guest apartment with its own bathroom and kitchen. It also has granite on the walls in the kitchen. Swanky! They live out in the middle of nowhere, but it's beautiful there. Being a city person I couldn't spend my life in an area like that, but it's a lovely place to visit.
Even though we were exhausted we stayed up talking for a few hours, retiring at about midnight. The next day they took us out to breakfast at a local place they like to visit Mr. C's Restaurant. The food was amazing! God, I am a true sucker for breakfast.
After that we headed to the gun range. That's right, folks. Gun range. We shot a couple of revolvers, the aforementioned Glock 9, a civilian version of an AK 47 and a .357 Magnum. I did pretty good considering that I wasn't wearing my glasses (the safety goggles wouldn't fit over them) and I hadn't shot since I was about eight years old.
HUBS and Zombie getting ready for some long range shootin'.
The one drawback was that I was wearing short sleeves and an open neck top. Why was this a drawback, you ask? Because the shells would pop out of the gun, blazing hot and hit my bare skin. I even got one in the chest that almost went down my shirt. Yowza! I have a tiny scar on my right arm from a burn mark left from one of the shells. Is it weird that it makes me feel slightly badass?
Gentle, Zombie and HUBS leaving the restaurant.