So there I was...shooting, shooting, shooting and hitting everything they threw. Until...round 28. Then I sucked. For the rest of the time. I sucked so bad, I was more frustrated than when I started. I couldn't even hit things standing still. It was so bad.
But then there was George. He is 86 and a World War II vet. He is also a gun smith. George and Art were talking behind my back like gossip queens.
GEORGE: Damn, Art. She is pretty good.
ART: Yep. I don't want to piss her off.
I think after I heard that, I fell apart. Once I started missing after a bit, I played head games with myself, beat myself up, and didn't even recoup my losses. I did hit the last two. Those would be rounds 59 and 60, I thinkish. Pitiful. I don't even think I hit 50%. I know. It was gross.
GEORGE: Fargo, you did great.
ME: Uh, you need new glasses.
GEORGE: I don't wear them. I don't need them. Us left handed shooters have to stick together.
ART: Fargo, you did good. We need more women shooting around here. You're purty, too.
ME: Well, you are a sweet man, Art. I like my men older and blind. You two will do.
GEORGE: Let's go to Wendy's.
GEORGE: My treat.
ME: Even better.
We went to Wendy's. George had lost his wife of 55 years about 3 years ago. He gave me relationship advice.
GEORGE: Many of my friends asked me how I got to pick such a good one. She liked to hunt and fish. She went to Wyoming with me on many hunting trips. I told them marriage is give and take. You also have to be picky. Pick wisely. I told my friends that they couldn't be takers all the time. And many of them was. They was always wanting it their way. And some of the women, too. I said to them that my wife liked the arts and liked theatre, so I took her to some of those things as well. She was also big into her sorority and we traveled the US going to her events. See...we loved each other. We really did. I miss her a lot. Now, I'm having a hard time finding someone that likes the same things I do AND isn't so damned attached to their grandkids. I mean, family is great, but I am no live in babysitter. I want my time, too. My wife and I both had that agreement...we would love our grandkids, but we would not be tied down so much that we couldn't go and do things on our own time before we were not able to do them. My girl now can't even leave them alone to travel or go do something during the day or evening. I don't know why she wants a man like me or any for that reason. I think it's all about sex.
Yeah. I know. I can't explain it, either. Except George is a mover and a shaker.
Left handed shooters. You have to watch out for them.
After that, I got to make a very special phone call. Yep. To The Queen's father. This post is dedicated to him. Why? Because he is the cutest thing ever and funny like his daughter.
He told me he was reading my book and would have kept reading it had the helicopter not landed in his back yard. I asked him if it was coming for him. He said it wasn't and he knew right away it wasn't a helicopter for him because there were no strait jackets.
Yes. I have lust in my heart.
He also has a birthday this week, the 12th! I wished him happy birthday. He wished me happy birthday as well. We are both virgins...I mean, Virgos.
So...this post is dedicated to Dick! Happy Birthday, Dick! You rock!
And thank you for having a very wonderful daughter who chats with me, kicks my arse when I need it, and supports my works like a pimp loves a hoe! I also know she loves her daddy very much and I was a daddy's girl also. I got it from my mother who is another daddy's girl. From us daddy's girls...we all wish you the very best birthday ever!
Tomorrow...I reveal what Yuri sent to me via special delivery. His recent post is brilliant, by the way.