Saturday, March 21, 2009
I'm gonna get me a gun.....
So John is turning FORTY on Tuesday. His request for his big day? A shot gun. He is now going to start shooting skeet. I don't know the first thing about cooking them either. Do you think they will taste better broiled or served with gravy? Do you have to skin them? (Okay - I know they are not "animals" okay- calm down)
Yesterday the girls and I headed to Dicks Sporting goods. Let me just tell you that me walking into Dicks Sporting goods is equal to John walking into a Starbucks- unfamiliar territory. I grabbed the first guy that I saw at the door and said I need a shotgun. He looked at me stunned and said right now? I said not right now to use- but I need to buy one. He said I will take you to the lodge. I said I don't have reservations- again my humor was lost on another powerless victom.
We head to the "lodge" where I am handed over to Bob. Bob is in his sixties and I am guessing has pure white hair under his glossy reddish dye job. He says to me- you are new to guns huh? I thought next time I come in here I need to remember to clean off the - I am a newbe- sign on my head. I said yes- this is for my husband. I read off my computer print out of what I needed. He verified the price and informed me that I had about 20 minutes of paperwork for me.
While I filled out pages regarding my boring lack of criminal background information.... I noticed that I was the only female in the area. Seanna and Emma were standing open mouthed at all of the lodge "decor". The fake deer, the mounted deer, the deer with it's tongue sticking out. Emma is now loudly proclaiming that whomever shoots deer should be shot. I call her over to shush her and told her that we would talk about it later.
Emma now has a nose bleed and I only have wet wipes with me. Let me just tell you that when you use wet wipes it makes a nose bleed look a lot worse. Seanna is worried that we should tell people she has not been shot. I told her people would figure that out.
Paperwork done- I am now trying to find bullets when I am told it is called ammunition and am pointed to the right area. I pick up protective eye wear, ear plugs, a huge plastic case, and four boxes of bullets. Bob is now calling in my paperwork to make sure I can have the gun. He follows us up to the front. I find out that Bob is in his sixties and that he used to hunt but now does not. He offers to show me around the rest of the store but I told him I was probably at my spending limit for the day. He completes my joyous journey by giving me a stern talk. I am told that my husband should be very careful, that MY NAME is on the gun and not his- that I AM RESPONSIBLE for it.
I hope none of those skeet decide to retaliate and get John. My name will be matched to the serial number of that gun.
I gave it to him Friday night so that he could take it out today- I have one happy soon to be 40 year old on my hands. Bob did well! I might have to go back and get me a matching hot pink one! (Please note poor grammar skills is on purpose read with a southern accent)