Running Guns & Throwing Bare Feet, Yes She Was Pregnant!

I spent a wonderful fun night recently with a friend who is a fan of gun ownership, gun use and of course gun safety. This made me think of a time when I was a bit in love with the notion of being careless with a gun for the heft and feel of it. Guns are an elixor to some and quick fix [or not] to others but on this night two years ago in bare feet I was in love for a moment. In the way that perhaps only I can be in love, in thirty second increments - living always from one moment to the very next moment.

AK-47 Last night I ran from a house atop Glassy Mountain in my flip flops with a twenty-eight dollar pedicure off a friend’s porch following a man who’d spilled beer down his shirt. He was saying over his shoulder “come on girl I need your help for a minute”. We blasted through his front door and I bumped the chair where his extremely pregnant and due this very night wife. She was up watching television said, “Hey Kim”. I said “Baby, let’s get this baby on the way!” ten seconds later I am in their bedroom and what he needs help with is really really not what I imagined. When I bounced through the door, beer in hand –fortunately for some odd and powerfully lucky reason in my left non catching hand he was throwing me an AK-47.

I had stopped in the living room just for the half-breath, long enough to say one sentence to his wife and only hiccupped in following him; I mean I was right on his heals but when I came through the door he was tossing it to me. As I was catching from four feet away I didn’t know if it was loaded or hot or ready or if I would drop it or fire it. I caught it well enough and the weight was right and steady and it felt good and appropriate. It took my breath and I liked the way it made me feel to hold it. Like holding a baby or holding the hand of a new boyfriend or driving your first brand new car. He was fast at the task of unloading another very expensive and equally impressive high powered rifle from a black case on the bed. This was so fluid and purposeful, he moved deliberately and easily and he said, “It suits you.” We walked back through the yards to our friends house where my husband, Bennett and Jeff were about to fire off some rounds with a 44 magnum. My husband chambered a round and handed it me. He made a point to tell me that it would kick more than the Glock I own and to not put my finger on the trigger until I had both hands fully controlling the weapon. As I gently squeezed the trigger the crack and kick were what I expected- instant- and a jolt and a bolt. My ears were ringing when I went in.

I have moments like that every now and then. Unexpected jolts. It is a joy when your ears ring for the right reasons.