Pistol Whipped

Yesterday after lunch with a new friend, he says, "This is going to sound weird, but have you ever fired a gun?"

Er... yeah... it is weird, and yes, I have.

I wish I could say I was stunned to silence or had some other surprised reaction, but I wasn't. As my friend was explaining that he meant at a firing range, adding that he has an acquaintance who took some gun safety courses and started going to a firing range and now my friend is thinking it might be fun, I am scrambling to explain that as a Southerner, I am no stranger to guns.

On later reflection, I am a little disturbed by my behavior. My friend made it clear that he has no desire to hurt anyone or anything, and I know he means it. I also hastened to clarify that most of my experience with guns involves hunting, which I am not too keen on. I'm just not a killer. But here we were talking about researching where we could go and how much it would cost, and I can't say I had seriously considered what I was talking about.

Certainly, it can't hurt to know how to handle a gun. You never know when that might be useful knowledge. And it could be interesting to take on the challenge of becoming a good shot. So as long as it's safe and in controlled conditions, why not? I am not bothered by the idea of what my friend proposed. I'm even starting to hope he follows through with the plans. What concerns me is that none of these reasons crossed my mind in that moment. I was merely making every effort to convince my friend that I think the idea is cool when the truth is, I've never thought of it at all and wasn't really thinking about it then.

Am I that desperate for male companionship that I would take up a hobby that involves playing with deadly weapons without a single thought just to please a new friend?

Apparently, I am.