Accepted and Denied

I meant to write this post on Friday while things were fresh in my mind, but I think I just wanted to ignore it for a while...

First, I had a volunteer shift at Dress for Success which reminded me to mention that I have actually volunteered more than five times, so I was able to cross that off a few months ago (#87)!  I really enjoy my shifts there... working with the women who come in, puttering around the store, and visiting with the other volunteers and employees.  Because it's so interactive with the women we're helping, I really get a sense of having accomplished something and that I'm doing something truly useful.  More so than if I were just making phone calls or doing paperwork or something along that line.  So I try to schedule one shift per month.  Because of the times they have available and my rotating work schedule, that's usually all I can do.  But the volunteer coordinator always makes it seem like she's thrilled for whatever I can sign up for, so I don't feel too bad that I can't go more often.  Which is nice.  I would like to keep doing this, so I hope it will continue to work out with my schedule.

After my volunteer shift, I sucked it up and drove to a gun shop/range (#76).

A few weeks ago, I had done some research online and found that the options are actually pretty limited around here if you don't have a membership to a private shooting range.  But there are two gun stores that have practice ranges and will also rent you a gun if you don't have your own, which I obviously don't.  Now I will say again that I most emphatically do not like guns.  Even while I was reading about them online, I felt nauseous.  But it was nothing like how I felt while I was actually driving to the store.  I truly felt like I was going to throw up.  As in I honestly thought that I was going to have to pull over and throw up in a parking lot somewhere.  Then my hands started getting shaky.  Which is probably not a good thing if you are about to go shoot again, even if it is on an indoor practice range surrounded by thick bulletproof glass.

I went in and was told that the wait would be 30-45 minutes.  There were quite a few people standing around waiting with camo bags containing God only knows what kind of weapons.  When I asked about renting a gun and not knowing what I needed, though, I was told that I would have to come back with someone who knew how to shoot.  Apparently they don't allow you on the practice range unless you already know what you're doing.  I hadn't called ahead and asked about this, because I had read some reviews online about people getting help from employees.  But again, apparently this is only if you already have some knowledge and you're just trying out something new.  So they gave me the business card for a man who can meet you there and instruct you on how to use a gun, and they politely asked me to leave.

I really wish I had been able to just get it over with then and there, even though I physically was feeling so wretched by this point.  I didn't know this was going to turn into such an event.  It's getting fairly expensive, too, with the range fee, gun rental fee, cost of purchasing ammunition, and now having to have a tutor along for the ride.  I should have just had my step-father take me out in the woods with one of his rifles the last time I was down there visiting, but I didn't want to have to explain why I was asking him to do it.  *sigh*  So this is something I'll have to revisit at a later date.  I'll keep you posted...

update:  I was re-reading mypost, and the important thing that I forgot to mention is that while I dislike guns so much, I never expected to have such a physical reaction.  In fact I can think of only a couple of times in my entire life that I have had this sort of experience, and only once or time that was this strong.  If it hadn't felt so horrible, I would generally find it interesting in a clinical sort of way.  Not to make light of the situation, but I have always had an irrational fear of being murdered.  Maybe I was shot to death in a former life...