Shortly after we were married, Joshua told me he wanted me to get my “Conceal Carry” permit, an Oklahoma license that would allow me to carry a fully-loaded and concealed handgun in most public areas, including my motor vehicle. I have always been a bit of a tom boy, and I pictured myself plugging some dubious villain that dared to try to steal my purse in some dark alley in Bristow, Oklahoma. Clearly, I was deluded. In some moment of weakness, I allowed my husband to convince me to spend an entire Saturday at a handgun safety course so that I, like many other frightening people in this fine state, can legally carry a loaded handgun. Last Saturday, we loaded into the car with my father-in-laws semi-automatic pistol and over 100 rounds of ammunition, and we departed for gun safety training in a nearby little town. Here are the highlights:
1. That one person: Upon our arrival at the gun safety training course, I immediately identified “that one person.” Every group has one-One person intent on cracking a joke or making a wise remark throughout a presentation like their entire existence is simply premised on finding a forum within which to present some lousy stand-up comedy routine. The whole delivery goes something like this: Presentation begins. Speaker is talking about something somewhat interesting. “That one person” sensing that no one in the room is focused on them interrupts the speaker to make a comment so asinine that the comment is automatically followed by this pregnant pause whereby every nearby listener is thinking, “No, he did not just say that” or “What?” “That one person” cannot exist in the pregnant pause and therefore opts to fill the void by laughing at his own joke which makes everyone else in the room feel awkward. To assuage feelings of awkwardness, every other person in the room gives an obligatory laugh, “Oh, ha, good one.” The remainder of the course is just some twisted variation of that very basic delivery over and over again. Mind you, the course lasted for six hours.
2. Gun Safety for Dummies: I told Joshua that I could teach this six hour course in about thirty minutes. We decided that the State of Oklahoma must mandate the time length because there is simply no other explanation for the length of the course. During this time, we learned several important rules about gun safety from our police officer instructor whom I will affectionately refer to as “Dwayne.” First rule: If someone comes into your home (a/k/a “Your Castle” per Dwayne), they are “bought and paid for,” and if the police question why you plugged the perpetrator with 45 rounds of ammunition, it was simply because “he made me do it.” Second, there are a lot of “unscrupulous lawyers” out there who are looking for a reason to encourage the Courts to infringe upon your Constitutional rights, so you have to refrain from being a vigilante because that is all the good people of this country need is to give “unscrupulous lawyers” another reason to ruin everybody’s fun. At this point in the presentation, Dwayne asked if there were any lawyers in the room. My husband gave me a nudge, and I reluctantly raised my hand. Dwayne spent the rest of the presentation trying to explain away his clever spin on the erosion of 2nd Amendment rights as delineated in our Supreme Court jurisprudence. On a side note, during the entire presentation, Dwayne wrote information on a dry erase board with what he believed to be a yellow dry erase marker. At the conclusion of his presentation, he discovered that it was actually a highlighter, and his lecture notes would never be erased from said dry erase board. Frankly, when you consider that Dwayne is able to legally carry a concealed handgun, “unscrupulous lawyers” do not seem nearly so scary.
3. McDonald’s Lunch and the Dump (Yes, Two Separate Places): During our break, Joshua and I went to McDonald’s given the utter lack of options. I went into the ladies restroom only to discover a pair of attractive patrons exchanging illegal drugs in Ziploc baggies. After my morning, I only hoped they weren’t armed too. After lunch, Dwayne told us he was taking us to “The Range” to practice our shooting. Now, folks, “The Range” was actually the City Dump fresh with mud following a light snow fall the night before. One by one, we marched in mud between old refrigerators, mismatched shoes and shell casings until we reached some wooden stands with paper outlines of human bodies on them. We each shot fifty rounds of ammunition at the human body target, and after target practice, I can honestly say that if a perpetrator comes at me head-on while allowing me at least five seconds to take a deep breath and aim, his right shoulder could be toast. Nonetheless, the “unscrupulous lawyer” and her husband passed with flying colors. We returned to Bristow, Oklahoma, covered in mud and wreaking of gun powder.
1. That one person: Upon our arrival at the gun safety training course, I immediately identified “that one person.” Every group has one-One person intent on cracking a joke or making a wise remark throughout a presentation like their entire existence is simply premised on finding a forum within which to present some lousy stand-up comedy routine. The whole delivery goes something like this: Presentation begins. Speaker is talking about something somewhat interesting. “That one person” sensing that no one in the room is focused on them interrupts the speaker to make a comment so asinine that the comment is automatically followed by this pregnant pause whereby every nearby listener is thinking, “No, he did not just say that” or “What?” “That one person” cannot exist in the pregnant pause and therefore opts to fill the void by laughing at his own joke which makes everyone else in the room feel awkward. To assuage feelings of awkwardness, every other person in the room gives an obligatory laugh, “Oh, ha, good one.” The remainder of the course is just some twisted variation of that very basic delivery over and over again. Mind you, the course lasted for six hours.
2. Gun Safety for Dummies: I told Joshua that I could teach this six hour course in about thirty minutes. We decided that the State of Oklahoma must mandate the time length because there is simply no other explanation for the length of the course. During this time, we learned several important rules about gun safety from our police officer instructor whom I will affectionately refer to as “Dwayne.” First rule: If someone comes into your home (a/k/a “Your Castle” per Dwayne), they are “bought and paid for,” and if the police question why you plugged the perpetrator with 45 rounds of ammunition, it was simply because “he made me do it.” Second, there are a lot of “unscrupulous lawyers” out there who are looking for a reason to encourage the Courts to infringe upon your Constitutional rights, so you have to refrain from being a vigilante because that is all the good people of this country need is to give “unscrupulous lawyers” another reason to ruin everybody’s fun. At this point in the presentation, Dwayne asked if there were any lawyers in the room. My husband gave me a nudge, and I reluctantly raised my hand. Dwayne spent the rest of the presentation trying to explain away his clever spin on the erosion of 2nd Amendment rights as delineated in our Supreme Court jurisprudence. On a side note, during the entire presentation, Dwayne wrote information on a dry erase board with what he believed to be a yellow dry erase marker. At the conclusion of his presentation, he discovered that it was actually a highlighter, and his lecture notes would never be erased from said dry erase board. Frankly, when you consider that Dwayne is able to legally carry a concealed handgun, “unscrupulous lawyers” do not seem nearly so scary.
3. McDonald’s Lunch and the Dump (Yes, Two Separate Places): During our break, Joshua and I went to McDonald’s given the utter lack of options. I went into the ladies restroom only to discover a pair of attractive patrons exchanging illegal drugs in Ziploc baggies. After my morning, I only hoped they weren’t armed too. After lunch, Dwayne told us he was taking us to “The Range” to practice our shooting. Now, folks, “The Range” was actually the City Dump fresh with mud following a light snow fall the night before. One by one, we marched in mud between old refrigerators, mismatched shoes and shell casings until we reached some wooden stands with paper outlines of human bodies on them. We each shot fifty rounds of ammunition at the human body target, and after target practice, I can honestly say that if a perpetrator comes at me head-on while allowing me at least five seconds to take a deep breath and aim, his right shoulder could be toast. Nonetheless, the “unscrupulous lawyer” and her husband passed with flying colors. We returned to Bristow, Oklahoma, covered in mud and wreaking of gun powder.
Like any good citizen, I am prepared to exercise my Constitutional right with skill, precision, and most importantly, safety. If and only if the need should arise, I, Lauren Allison, am ready and willing to look that perpetrator in the eye and challenge any aggressor: “Being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself a question-Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?”
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