Many summers ago, I was at a friend’s loft and he asked me to grab a pair of keys from his safe. He scribbled out the combination on a napkin, pointed in the direction of it and ran down the street for a quick meeting. I crouched by the safe and spent several minutes struggling with the combination. Eventually, it flew open. I could see passports, documents and some cash but the keys were nowhere to be found. When I reached to push everything aside, my fingers touched something cold, heavy and metal. Using my cell phone as a makeshift flashlight, I eventually discovered that it was a gun. I’m not sure how long I spent staring at it and trying to decide if I (the Queen of Clumsy) should pick it up, but when he returned I was still sitting there. With some coaxing, he eventually taught me how to hold and load it. Flash forward a few hours, and I was firing off my first round at the nearest shooting range and basking in beginner’s luck… That target currently leans against my living room wall waiting to be hung.
