Monday, September 07, 2009

True Story Tuesday - Tag Team again

Hey y’all – time for True Story Tuesday! Where you link up your old or new posts that tell the story of anything amazing, hilarious, outrageous, or miraculous (and TRUE!) that has happened to you! Easy… just grab the code from the sidebar and link up. Please? Then I won’t feel like this kinda stuff only happens to me!


Hunka Hunka Burning Love Lead

Whilst dating my rugged redneck, I knew that the day would come when I’d be expected to join in some Annie Oakley activity.

Sure ‘nuf.

Let’s go shooting. You wanna go shooting? Let’s head up to the Peak tomorrow and fire off a few rounds.

Umm. Sure hon.

Then in pure terror, I ran off to my parent's’ house and sought out my dad.

See, I’m not kidding when I say that you don’t want to mess with the guy. He’s as respectful and patient as they come, but he’s got the kind of aim that makes law enforcement glad he’s on their side.

You know… the hero of the movie during the shootout scene? Where all the cops are going bang bang bang and the bad guy is just dancing around? Until Mr. Saves the Day gets there and ends it with one shot? Yeah, that’s my dad.

So I convinced him to talk me through a crash course. While my mother stood there and blankly wondered what someone had done with her city girl, I learned about safeties, loading, how to grip, how to stand, and how to aim with your dominant eye.

But I still hadn’t fired a single shot.


Shooting day comes and I’ve resolved to be as goofy as possible – so my atrocious performance can be attributed to the “just having fun” excuse.

I forgot how competitive I was.

We drive up to the Peak. It’s a hot day and I’ve donned an uncharacteristic ballcap to keep the sun out of my eyes. (Uncharacteristic because who wants to listen to that hearing aid whistle all day?)

(Mr. Daddy in: You want to see cute, you should see her in a ballcap with her hair pulled into a pony tail out the back… *grin*)

(Rachel in: Oh what? Now you’re gonna butt in on my story? I see how it is. That little remark was just to bug me… he knows I hate being called cute).

I’m dreading my turn with the gun. Especially when I realize that Mr. Daddy has brought eleventy-hundred of them along with my weight in ammunition.

No backing out. My first dilemma is to choose which gun to shoot.

Let me be honest here. I cannot identify handguns by caliber. I’m a girl. This is not prerequisite in our training. A girl can tell you exactly what kind of engagement ring she’d like – down to the cut, clarity, color, carat, dimensions, setting metal, and size (by the way… my wedding set was EXACTLY what I wanted, and a family heirloom to boot!). But guns? There’s a trigger, then a BOOM, right?


So as Mr. Daddy begins discussing the calibers of the guns, I’m nodding blankly and and praying I don’t look like a total fool. Several comments later, he decides that the grip and size of the Beretta .9mm would be best to try first.

He shoves the magazine in and shows me the mechanics. He sets up some aluminum cans and a Starbucks cup against the dirt hillside and backs away. He fires and hits the cans. Again and again. Then the cup goes flying and lands upright.

He hands the gun to me. My hands are sweating, shaking, and apparently not listening to my brain.

I mentally tick through all the steps as I find my stance, check my aim, kick the safety off, and take a breath. On the exhale, I squeeze the trigger and the gun slightly bounces in my hands.

WHOO-HOO! I actually hit something within my line of sight! Mr. Daddy cracks up at my expression and tells me to fire again.

(Mr. Daddy in: Yeah the hillside was in her line of sight….*snicker*)

(Rachel in: STINKER)

My second shot I hit an aluminum can sitting near the coffee cup. I keep shooting, getting into a groove… then finally make the money shot.

(Mr. Daddy in: Actually I am not sure if it was the second shot or the second clip load…and that baby holds 16 rounds in a clip load)

(Rachel in: Oooooh! You wanna step outside for a minute? ;)

Remember Mr. Daddy hit the Starbucks cup? Oh yeah baby… you should have seen the look on his face when I shot the lid off the cup! It twirled up in the air and prompted some pretty riotous celebration from this city girl.

(Mr. Daddy in: Seriously, she was like Michael Jackson on crack, hopping and jumping around, and squealing. Totally unprofessional…)

(Rachel in: There may or may not have been several NYAH NYAH NYAH I outshot you references…)

(Mr. Daddy in: Did I mention TOTALLY unprofessional???)

Next, Mr. Daddy hands me a revolver. Seriously?!?! But I’m still giddy over the coffee cup lid shot, so I feign confidence and fire away.

Can you say SHOCK AND AWE ?

The gun bucks in my hand and I take a step backwards. If I wasn’t deaf before, I surely am now.

Yikes! But as was the rule with the .9mm, I must finish the round of shots. I did passably, while repeatedly offering reminders to my redneck that this was his city girl’s FIRST time ever shooting.

Then he does it. He breaks out the .22. Telling me the whole time that he thinks I’ll really like this one.

I’m guessing he HOPES I like it because he has waaaay too much ammo for it.

And you know how you’ll do just about anything to impress the person you’re dating? Yeah, I was trying to prove all this gunpowder didn’t phase me a bit.

So I take my stance, raise the gun, switch the safety, and fire. Not too bad. Again. And again.

A few shots in, I see a puff in the distance where the bullet struck dirt. More importantly, in slow motion, I see the shell flying out of the top of the gun in slow-motion.

Flipping end over end… heading straight for the brim of my ballcap. It’s a direct shot and the shell ricochets in a straight diagonal…

Straight down my shirt.

The shell was blazing hot and hit flat where it could do the most damage.

Then the blasted thing rolled. I kid you not. It rolled down to my bra.

Oh if that were only the end of it. But this is a True Story Tuesday, so of course it’s not.

The little molten piece of brass gets stuck in my bra… really and truly stuck.

It is burning the snot out of me and I am yelping and shrieking and jumping all over the place. I am grabbing at my shirt with one hand while pointing the gun down with the other. I am screaming at Mr. Daddy,

Take the gun! Take the gun! Take the gun! TAKE THE GUN!”

(Mr. Daddy in: How do you take the gun when it is still live, and Rach is hopping around like a three legged coyote at a chicken convention???)

(Rachel in: Where do you get these, dear? Snort)

And of course my chivalrous cowboy takes his sweet time rescuing the loaded gun from my grip… because he is bent over double laughing his redneck butt off.

(Mr. Daddy in: Give me a break, my eyes were tearing up and I couldn’t see…)

Finally he grabs the gun and stands there breathless from laughter as I pull my bra away from my torso. He explodes in laughter anew as the dastardly shell falls from under my shirt and clinks on the ground below.

My eyes are full of tears from the burns and from trying desperately not to laugh. I give up and laugh while crying as I inspect the trail of gunpowder that runs in black blisters from my clavicle to (ahem) right between the sisters.

(Mr. Daddy in: Ladies take your mind outta the gutter. No it was not a cheap trick to sneak a peek. It was fate or providence, I’m telling you…. DON’T JUDGE ME!!!)

Mr. Daddy offers a cold bottled water as rudimentary pain relief, between howls of laughter. Definitely not a painless way to impress the man you want to marry.

(Mr. Daddy in: I offered to kiss it to make it feel better…. But ya’ll can imagine how that went down, when she smacks me for just takin’ a picture of her cute butt…)


Rach in: Take a peek below and tell me that’s gonna be the LAST TIME you take a picture of my derriere.


This is actually a Smith & Wesson .40 in case anyone wanted to know (see the smoke? :). And yes, I outshot the best score with a handgun in my group… then Mr. Daddy went and blew half the target away with this:

(Mr. Daddy in: Pistols are fun, but when you want to get serious there is nothing like a 12 gauge loaded with 00 buck shot.)


(now you see why that chick was lucky he only laughed about the whole thing?)


Come on y’all… I know we’re not the only ones with these kind of stories. We’d love to read yours! So link up and send us your way! :)


Rachel said...

And would you believe the meanie actually handed the poor burn victim the loaded gun and made her finish off the clip?

Never shot a .22 again :(

I think I may have started something by horning in on his last True Story Tuesday post... :)

City girl turned Country Girl said...

Oh I think you guys are the only ones with stories as funny as these!!! Seriously you guys crack me up!!

Pam D said...

Hee!!! well, ouchie, too. You can't tell me that you didn't SOMEHOW plan that, Mr. Daddy. And wtg on the shooting, Rach! My favorite part of Cub Scout camps is getting to do range and archery; as a leader, we all get a turn, too. LOVE it! (but if I ever shoot a .22, it will only be while wearing a turtleneck...)

Emily said...

Oh hahahahah, ouch ouch ouch hahahahha ouch ouch ouch ouch! I don't know whether to laugh or cry. I can't believe you burned your boob! Although, I'm not one to talk. The only and only time my hubs tried to talk me into skeet shooting with him and his big-a55 shotgun, I had no idea what I was doing, randomly shot and the air, had no idea the gun was going to do whatever it did (that thing where it almost smacks me in the face) and then I dropped the gun. Yeah, he wouldn't even let me hold his precious gun after that...I had to sit on the bench and watch!

Floortime Lite Mama said...

OMG wahat a charming way to start the day you and Mr Daddy are
That was AMAZING

Kmama said...

Oh goodness. Funny story, but I can't imagine the pain. I cringed when I read that part!!

Susan said...

Was it worth a bit of pain to tell this hilarious story? I hope so, because I can't quit laughing. I shot a 22 when I was a kid--a lot--but never had a shell attack me. Of course, I had flat "sisters" at that time, so an errant shell down my shirt would likely have kept rolling downward and burned my belly button. Thanks for the Tuesday laugh! I always know the story's going to be good; it's a bonus when it's this funny.
P.S. I AM sorry it was painful for you. Looks like you mastered shooting in a big way, though.

Alicia W. said...

You guys are a hoot! I swear if we lived closer your hubs would have another partner in crime... My husband.. They are so much alike it's almost insane! :)

Anonymous said...

OMGosh, I am CRACKIN' up!! That is HILARIOUS!

And my dear honey is also a gun-enthusiast, and he's also taken me out to "shoot a few rounds off".

3 things I learned:

1.) I actually liked it! Something empowering about racking that 12 guage. ;) Yes, I know, Mr. Daddy, you like me even more now, huh?

2.) I can only shoot the 12 guage twice before my shoulder explodes.

3.) I have really really good aim. ;)

I used a repeat for mine though...I'm kind of low on stupid stuff I've done. LOL Maybe I'm growing up....nawww....probably not.

Foursons said...

1st off- Who is that guy taking a picture of Mr. Daddy in the last shot? I'm sure you're in his picture like he is in yours.

And Mr. Daddy- I'm sure the whole Let's go to the gun range and shoot some ammo was your ploy to get a little action. Don't lie- WE KNOW.

Rachel- You are one tough, hot, chick. I'm never gonna mess with you!

Lisa said...

I am SOOOO with Pam D. Mr. Daddy HAD to have planned that somehow! The man is good. Like Magnum P.I. good. *ahem* So he is capable of such things. So sorry for the trail the bullet-thingy inevitably left behind. (Hey, I have shot guns, but don't ask me to name them or label the bullets and such.) I have to say that is the most creative way to "get a peek." If he would of only waited a while and asked nicely....... LOL

Pam D said...

You know, Lisa, it was the "let me kiss it and make it better" line that clued ME in. I'm quite sure that "the girls" were not amused.

He & Me + 3 said...

Holy Ouch. That sounds so painful. Glad you impressed him that day in more ways than one. LOL

Unknown said...

You guys would make good nurses on my unit (remember I go to work armed :)

I'd bring my .357 up to visit your .40 cal except I am afraid I would forget to take it out of my purse on the airplane and go to the pokey.

Great story.

wifemomnurse signed in to the wrong account again!

brian said...

Nice visual of the tumbling hot brass!

Actually wifemomnurse is a pretty good shot, too. But it's really not a good idea to give loaded weapons to significant others :)

Floortime Lite Mama said...

I did want to tell you that I nominated you as "Kreativ Blogger"
Please see my blog entry for today and please please participate

Mr. and Mrs. Nurse Boy said...

I love this story! The girls get in the way during the most odd times, don't they?!

Oh, and I love the banter! You both crack me up!

Mrs. Nurse Boy

Lisa @ Boondock Ramblings said...

I think this story may be one I can't share, although I did go to a shooting range one time with some cops and constables and actually qualified for a weapon (if I had really been trying to qualify). The thing almost knocked me on my butt though....I'm not very tall and at that time I was pretty light too.

I'm glad you didn't get shot and only were burned! :-)

(Hubby would have snuck a peak or two as well)

melody is slurping life said...

Does it ever let up with you two? LOL And, no, I don't have a story anything like this one. But then again, my brain is getting pretty old, and I may just be forgetting the stories.

Loved it.

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