Say Hello to My Little Friend

Stop. Or I’ll shoot (in your general direction).

It’s possible that I may not hit you. The bullet might nick your ear or rustle the hair on the side of your head and that’s OK…I just really want to scare the living shit out of you (well not you, actually).

My real live stuffed animal Ted and were living happily together in our old mini manse.  So when someone started messing around with my surroundings I wasn’t so much scared as I was territorial. And extremely pissed off.

Little mysterious happenstances occurred…it wasn’t that someone was harassing me outright but just enough to make me take notice (inside window locks broken, as if someone was trying to jimmy them open), enough to let me know they were around (a pile of cigarette butts by my car door in the morning that weren’t there the night before – and I’m not a smoker) enough to piss me off (smashed Halloween pumpkins on my sidewalk – and I lived around the rear of the building, so I knew someone was intentionally F’ing with me), enough to get some sort of security…enough to get my ass a gun.

Pink Patrol

OK, so maybe my .38 special revolver is a teeny tiny bit smaller than the ‘friend’ Al Pacino used in “Scarface.”

Upon acquiring a loaded firearm, I was feeling much more secure. So while I felt at ease, I had never shot a gun. Not even a bb gun (I couldn’t even make cool gun sounds – a capability all boys seem to be born with – when I was a kid).  And I thought maybe it would be a good idea to know how to handle the gun so as not to accidentally point and shoot at shadows, possibly hitting myself in my foot (which would be tragic, as I love my heels).

Sharing my need to obtain skills, my buddy found a ‘ladies shoot free’ day at a gun range near work.  So over lunch (only in the South would you be able to shoot guns over your lunch hour…how red neck of me…but let’s not forget I’m already fabulously trashy (see anything in my Grizzie category) therefore, I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think) we headed to the fancy gun range.

We arrived to a grimy, dingy, seedy (get the picture?) building, complete with bars on the windows.  After signing in, we received our ear (which look just like fancy headphones but sucked because they were communal. Yuck) and eye (snazzy yellow-tinted glasses) protection and headed downstairs.

CBXB Badass

Prior to actually shooting a gun, I was feeling very bad ass. Like a big, dorky, bad ass with kick ass accessories.

Image 16

Did you get that last shot? Do I look cool? Seriously, tell me.

The first few times I pulled the trigger I was startled not only due to the loudness of a shot but also due to the ricocheting casings that flew off the ceiling, coming back to bite me on the head (insert screams – as at first I thought they were bullets – how blonde of me).

Image 21

Focused on trying to hit the target…anywhere.

My trigger finger is apparently the weakest link on my body (why the hell does this look so easy on TV shows?) because I was having to use two digits after about five shots (insert my excuses as to why my bullets were hitting the floor and ceiling instead of the target).

Did I really hit it? Or is that just a black spec?

Image 23

Hells yes I hit it! And then almost shot my gunpanion in all of my excitement.

While taking a break from my cockiness of less than mediocre shooting ability, (and resting my throbbing hand and aching finger) I was able to pose for one more threatening picture –

What badass can't stop giggling?

Stop! Or I’ll shoot…if I don’t giggle you to death first (way too much red neck fun at the gun range…maybe I do have a little Southern blood in my veins).

And now for the grand tamale (I know, I know, how can I possibly top a lunch break at the gun range?)… I decided to display my moderate (but in my mind kick ass) abilities and scare the bejesus out of anyone lurking around my mini manse.

A poor gal’s security system. Scared, aren’t you?

Who wouldn’t be terrified upon seeing a target with actual bullet holes hanging on a front door (no one has to know I took aim 12,346 times to achieve the 22 bullet holes actually making contact with the paper). But upon hanging my security guard on the door, no mysterious incidents occurred again…maybe they’re scared of a red neckish, unabashedly trashy girl with a gun.

And when I hit the gun range again, I will be wearing my ultra fabulous, non-communal pink ear and eye protectors courtesy of my First Mate’s hubs. He thought I needed the fancy giddup to match the pink grips he gave me for Christmas. I wish he knew me better…


Wouldn’t you be scared shitless of a girl giggling uncontrollably with pink eye and ear protectors, along with a pink gripped .38 special?

Go ahead, make my day.



36 thoughts on “Say Hello to My Little Friend

  1. Joyce Metz says:

    Megan, This is sounding way toooo familiar. Remember the CREEP that would twist the light at your door making it dark??……please, please be cautious. Did you sign a lease? Shit! I’m calling you…..

  2. Wow, that was entertaining! In Ireland our police force don’t even carry firearms. Only detectives are allowed a small concealed weapon, and a rapid response team. So, your post was really interesting and a little scary to me!!!!!! Seriously though, your gun is cute!

    • The gun laws in America vary from state-to-state. In Tennessee, you don’t have to have a permit to have a firearm in your house but you can’t carry it outside of your property. I can’t believe Irish police don’t carry firearms! Wow! And I have to say, shooting the gun for the first time WAS scary!

  3. filbio says:

    Sexy gals and guns are such a turn on!

    I also go to a gun range here in NYC and have a post about ready to go on my blog in a few days on it. So much fun!

  4. I need you and your pet gun. I have a rudeass neighbor who revs up her muffler-challenged car at 5:15 every morning and wakes me up. I don’t need to get up THAT early. I’m gonna go cray on her, I just know it, with the tugboat man not here to hold me back. I’m going out there with my hair sticking up and my ratty bathrobe and hell is gonna break loose.

    • Oh Girl. If you feel a cray moment coming on, PLEASE call COPS before you do it, so it’s documented on camera! I’m happy for you to borrow mine and you can shoot it up in the air to scare the bejesus out of her. Or, maybe something needs to happen to the muffler challenged car….

  5. MrJohnson says:

    The first line reminded me of that movie..’Stop or my mom will shoot’
    Sylvester Stalone and Estelle Getty. Haha

    Nice gun. If an intruder wasn’t scared they would at least be laughing to death at the pink.

    • I know, right? The pink grips scream bad ass. If I can get rid of an intruder by laughing, I’m all for it!

      And I didn’t even think about the movie before I wrote this post. Maybe I was somehow channeling it from the last time I watched it on cable…!

  6. Phil Lanoue says:

    Good on you for being smart and having the ability to protect yourself, and I always encourage my friends to be safe.
    You may wish to look into one of these next.

  7. elkee says:

    OMG! So glad you are protecting yourself! (And looking fab while doing so.)

  8. This is exactly what I do to keep make sure the pizza delivery guy doesn’t trample the shrubs. Except mine is a super soaker…and it doesn’t work.

    In other words- great post! I don’t have a bucket list, but I’m going to start one just so I can put “lunch at a gun range in the South” on there. That sounds like the best time.

  9. FreeUrCloset says:

    Scary. Props to you for learning to use a loaded gun, have balls!

  10. Good for you getting a gun. Nobody should be made to feel vulnerable in their own home. Just get in some practice and any fool stupid enough to try something will only have themselves to blame!

  11. So first of all, how Michelle Pfeifer are you?
    Love love love the little pink handle.
    Completely dislike that some psycho is littering your door with cigarette butts and creeping on you!

    Walk around burning sage and waving your gun to ward off pote Tia.bad vibes at the new mini-manse!!!

  12. marisaporter says:

    I love shooting targets and adore tiny little guns – like the Baby Glock. Want one some day. It does make you feel empowered.

  13. Ok, I just have to throw it out there…I don’t know. Might be the European in me, or the German with his suppressed gun genes, but I don’t know. I understand the need to feel safe, but a gun is just…I don’t know. This country still confuses me a lot, and so does you having a gun. I get it, I get it, it makes you feel safe. But does it actually make you safe?

    Ah well…living the American dream, I guess….sigh.

    • Well, I was always opposed to having a gun in my house. Always. Until someone started messing around with me (and if I had kids in my house or another person living with me, I would definitely never have a gun).

      A person did break into my place while I was a away and that started this whole process – especially after my patio furniture was being moved around daily, my crawl space door was often open in the morning (and it had a hinged opener, so it wasn’t an animal) and plants on my porch were purposely turned upside down. I was really scared, pissed off and felt vulnerable in my own home.

      I think that as a single woman living alone and being messed with (and possibly having watched too many Criminal Minds episodes) it’s the simple thought of having something if I need it. I can’t have a baseball bat or knife under the bed because it’s too easy for an intruder to turn it around and use on me. With a gun, I can run and hide. And if found, say please don’t come any further because I have a weapon.

      Once someone gave me that gun, I wanted to know how to use it, which is why I went to the gun range. I also plan on taking a safety course. But I hope to never, ever need it. Basically, it’s for my peace of mind. Because Teddy is only so protective…

      And if I had children in the house, there’s no way I’d ever have a gun.

  14. Wow, you sound so tough & cute. What’s even cuter is that pink sleeve on the gun.

Holla at me!

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