A journalist finds out exactly why shooting guns is so much fun:
“OK,” Brandon yelled, “have you ever fired a machine gun before?”
“That’s all right. This is an AK-47, I’m gonna take you through it.”
So he handed me this huge weapon, and that’s when it got weird. I don’t really like guns, I don’t think anyone should be allowed to own guns, I don’t see the fascination in guns, and BOOM! I’d just fired a shot! There was a small hole a few centimetres from the centre of the target, and BOOM! I’d fired another! This was incredible!
Brandon grinned and switched the gun to automatic, braced me with a hand on my shoulder, and yelled at me to fire. Rat-a-tat-tat! Now there were about a million little holes in the paper target, spread around haphazardly, and the gun was still bucking and shuddering in my hands.
Suddenly I was Rambo, I was John Wayne, I was the Terminator. I was blasting away like nobody’s business, and wow, I was having fun.
The M4 was next, with similar results – a wildly random pattern of bullet holes and a freshly crowned Aussie gun nut. The Uzi was ridiculous, this snub-nosed thing that fires out ammo with incredible speed. The bullets were still going all over the place, but who cares? I was owning this thing, until… click, click. I was out of ammo.
Brandon patted me on the back. “Do you want a photo with your firearm?” he asked.
Ha, I’m thinking, you mean one of those cringeworthy shots you always see of insecure blokes clutching onto their makeshift manhood?
So I got the photo. And then I left. I’m still no gun nut. But I’d seen another side of the US that day, and it was kind of fun. I can see why those swimmers were into it.