Evidence 101

EVIDENCE 101...Wherever you go, there you are...

Thursday, August 29, 2013

Shotgun Kate

Well, it was the second round of trap in my Indiana follies today.

However, Sheriff Mike took Bug and I to the local conservation club, not the one far, far away in the land of the rich and free, but right in my back yard.  And where it was packed full of men and all were geezers. I was the only female. They stared at me.

I was nervous.

As I waited for our turn, I was more nervous. I did watch several of them miss... a lot. But they were all having fun and laughing. That part was a relief. They seemed like a good group of men...er...geezers.

It was our turn, along with 3 others. I hesitated because the announcing made a reference to what I thought was sort of like my name but wasn't my name. I turned and gave Sheriff Mike the Fargo rookie stare down.


ME: You don't even know my name? OMG. WTF?

SHERIFF MIKE: I got your name wrong? That's what I thought your note said.

ME: My note cancelling on you the last time?


ME: You mean you didn't know my name all these months? Nor bothered to know?


ME: Wow.

SHERIFF MIKE: I really got your name wrong?

ME: Yeah. Epic fail. I have messy handwriting. I can't believe you didn't know my name. I feel so cheap.

SHERIFF MIKE: I will go hang my head in shame.

ME: *crickets* Pfst. Yeah.

So the first round...the first 13 were AWESOME! I heard whispers in the background...the crowd roared...and then...

...some geezer said, "She shoots damn good for a girl."

I don't know why I didn't embrace that comment and continue on my fantastic streak of greatness. I must have heard the magic words of kryptonite and I began melting into the shooting plank. I sucked. I was missing. Then I hit. I had two stove pipes. Then I would miss. Then I had the range master tell me to slow down as I was reloading too fast. I was off my game. The words were in my head. I defeated myself. It was pitiful. Like rookie-ness.

At the end of the first round, I was disgusted with myself.

There was a long lag time before the next round, so I took the time to get my head out of my ass. It was a process.

While I was contemplating the maneuver, a geezer came up to me and spoke to me about my shooting. He complimented me and told me he wished there were more "ladies" that came out to shoot. I looked around and then focused back on him and realized he was talking about me. Or perhaps it was because my head was still in my ass and I couldn't see very well to communicate.

He was nice to chat with and I enjoyed his company. Curiosity soon killed the cats and they came over to me one by one. I laughed my ass off when the range master told me the shotgun I was shooting with had too long of a stock and Sheriff Mike should shorten it for me. Yeah. Funny. He about died as that suggestion was made.

ME: Yeah. Let's get a chain saw out and cut that $4,000 gun of yours up to fit me. Great idea.


ME: It's the least you could do since you don't even know my name.

At this point he got red in the face.

RANGE MASTER: He got your name wrong?

ME: Yes.

RANGE MASTER: Oh, dear, we can change it.

ME: It's Ok. What he told you is better than Margaret.

RANGE MASTER: You don't look like a Margaret.

ME: Nope. Everyone says that. I think I will stick with that exotic name he gave you tonight.

RANGE MASTER: Ok. Suit yourself, dear. Keep up that good shooting.

His cheerfulness got my mind off my head games I was playing with myself and back in the mindset to shoot again with cop sense and concentration...or some shit like that.

The second round...much better. Although it was getting darker, and I couldn't see worth a darn, I was hitting the pigeons.  And concentrating. And finally in my groove. In the end the geezers just said "Great shooting" and had dropped the "for a girl." I told them it was my second time which raised eyebrows. Is it wrong I didn't mention the cop thing? Neither did Sheriff Mike.

All's well that end's well.

Especially for Margaret. Wherever she is.


Coffeypot said...

Margaret? Wasn't the Dennis the Menace's antagonist/girl friend? Yep, you are a Margaret.

GunDiva said...

I love it when they drop the "like a girl" thing :)

Good job, Margaret.

Z always just shoots clean up for me. I get first shot at the clay, when I miss, he hits it for me. Or something like that.

Ms. A said...

Wait a minute, he got your name wrong after all this time and you didn't shoot him? You missed a good chance and definitely a good reason!

RussianBear said...

I had a mental picture of you as Happy Gilmore...finding your "happy place" between rounds. It had a bunch of naked cherub fountains surrounded by colorful flower beds. Fabio, as a centaur, enters stage right offering to clean your shotgun and have his cabana boys rub your shoulders.

Bob G. said...

MOmma Fargo:
GOd bless 'ya, dear...you always find the silver lining in those dark clouds...and the "geezers"...LOL.

TWO stovepipes?
What kinda ammo you feeding that shotgun?
(betcha they were reloads)
At that point, I woulda dropped the long gun, whipped out the pistol and finished the job proper.

Nice story.
Glad you had a good time (for a girl)...LOL.

Roll safe out there.

Momma Fargo said...

Margaret thanks all of you for being her jock support!

Timothy Hecht said...

So, what the hell is your name?

Wrexie said...

Nice shootin' Maggie. lol eeh, why bring up the cop thing anyway.

The Queen said...

WTF you shooting pigeons for? Have you ever tasted pigeon? Taste like turds smell. I can't believe you wasted shells on pigeons when there are perverts to shoot at. Hang your head in shame!