On an odd whim, I’m going to a shooting range in Bellevue with Scott on Tuesday. Tuesday, of all things, is Ladies Night. “The best way to try before you buy.”
It started as a joke, an improbable way to temper the stiff sticky stress surrounding Heart of the World, but it stuck. Never having been to a shooting range, I’ve no idea what it will be like. Guns are a gray area. Normally, rifles are fine, handguns are not, with the logic being that any object made for the express purpose of rendering damage to a human being is unconscionable, but hunting for food is completely acceptable.
I know some of the basic heart-breaking rules. Never put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire; never put a loaded gun down without checking that the safety is on. I wonder what problems being Canadian might inspire. I suppose they’re not going to let me in with bare feet