Valentine’s Day. 2017. I’m alone (im as shocked as u are.) Why not be a man and go to the gun range? It’s been awhile since I’ve shot. And my friend Sassy said it was very “chic single man” of me to do so and I will never go against her. She’s always right. She always says chic so I do too.
I really have no idea how to write an entire post about this. I just have one thing to say honestly.
I wanted to go to the range was for the Instagram opportunity. I know, I know. That’s really lame. But in this day in age it’s what we do. So I’m in my lane and I’ve got all my stuff out. I arrange some of my ammo in the shape of a heart (Valentine’s Day amirite) and stage my handgun and magazines accordingly to fill out the foreground in my screen (did I use foreground correctly?.) CHIC PICTURE RIGHT. I thought of a caption hours ago. This is my moment. Well, I freaking get in trouble for it. I hear behind me the range assistant on his walkie talkie “*cssrt* copy that I see him.” He taps my shoulder and says. “Sir, could you please make sure your weapon is pointed down range at all times?”
WHO FN NARC’D ON ME???? GROW UP. ARE WE IN HOME ROOM?? WE ARE ADULTS.
I was a little flustered, but I still manage to get out, “excuse me i’m takin a pic to impress my internet friends pls hold”
But ok feelings aside, I do admit it. I mainly went to the range for the photo opp in presented on Valentine’s. Was it worth the 38 likes and counting? Not necessarily. But it was worth one like in particular. BB, my love. My friend Paige’s hot older sister who let’s me flirt with her, but doesn’t participate back. She is worth enduring my embarrassing millennial habits at a gun range in front of all the conservative baby boomers.