I wore a bright yellow sweater in order to make sure I didn't get shot accidentally and close-toed shoes because obviously bullets can't penetrate them like they can flip-flops. We watched a short safety video before picking out a gun during which I almost fainted because it basically convinced me I was going to get shot. The boyfriend picked out a gun for me (a 9mm Beretta) and bought ammo and a target. Meanwhile I stood there with my arms crossed and my knees locked, hoping I would pass out and not have to shoot. We got to our lane and that's when everything went south.
He was explaining all about the safety, loading bullets, etc. and I just burst into tears. I couldn't even hear him between the army of bullets flying around us, our super cute earmuffs, and my deep sobs. Being the great guy that he is, when he saw me crying he wiped my tears (and snot!) and told me it was okay, that I wasn't going to get shot, that I had nothing to worry about, etc. He also whispered, "there's no crying at the gun range, Victoria". I got it together and was able to shoot three rounds; on the fourth round the gun jammed so I set it down and burst into tears again. Long story short, I stood outside while he finished the last 47 bullets.
He was sympathetic, assuring me that it was okay to be scared and that he was proud of me for shooting the gun when I'd never even seen one before. This sympathy lasted about an hour. Afterwards he made fun of me relentlessly and called me a baby and a wimp for DAYS. True love!
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This was taken the day after we actually went. I passed off his target as mine for an Instagram photo op. I'm the worst, I know.
