With us it's different, but this is America, this is an American shooting range.
With us it’s different, with us it’s really different, I keep telling them.It’s better outside, he tells me; inside the smell is extreme.
It’s hot, but it’s always hot here, and normally my hands never get sweaty. I press them against my thighs, press them against my American jeans, next to my American guide on this American shooting range.
With us it’s different, we do this differently, I repeat, and the wind blows, and he prepares the weapons, and the men look at me between the shots. I’m not the only woman, but I’m the youngest, and my flimsy summer top feels wrong for shooting and for being among men who shoot.
A loud horn echoes over the shots and everyone takes a break; a silence settles over the range. We walk out onto the grass, we staple the targets to the wood, and I smell the gunpowder in the air, I smell it everywhere. It would be really awful if we were inside, I say, and my American guide nods: I told you.
With us it’s different, there are rules, you don’t just need one safe, you need two, and the police comes by to confirm, they check it regularly, I say, and they nod politely and smile and say: Insane, that’s insane.
He explains the weapon to me, he tells me the exact names: this is a Tikka Bolt Action Rifle, he says, this is a Chinese SKS from 1950, this is an AK Hungarian Semi Automatic Rifle, this is a Glock Sub Compact Pistol, this is a Heckler and Koch .45 Automatic. You can try them all!
Heckler and Koch, I repeat, but in German.
Weird: You get used to the shots.
Weird: You get used to the smells.
Weird: You start to relax.
Weird: You stop sweating.
Weird: You’re excited, your heart is pounding, you sit down, place the weapon against your bare shoulder, position the rifle, look through the barrel, breathe in, breathe out, and pull the trigger.
You can’t help but call out loudly after your first shot. You have to shout WOAH, you have to laugh, you just have to, everybody does that their first time, he tells me, truly everybody, and I laugh even more and position and breathe in and out and pull the trigger a second time.
Weird: It's a lot of fun.
Later I look at beautiful art and sit reverently in the Rothko Chapel. Get you a woman who can do both, or something like that.