What ever happened to gun shows?! I mean, really. I haven't been to one in a while until today, but I've been hearing for the longest that the shows have been really bad.

1. The first thing I see upon going in (after paying $8 for this honor) is a table set up with two women selling hand made pottery. I see tables of jewelry and collectable coins. Books having nothing to do with guns. I was wondering if I was in the right place or not!

2. Cut down on the Nazi flags. The shock value isn't there anymore and no one believes the "representing history" bullshit, either. If you are truly "representing history" try being more original. Do you know how many variations of the American flag there have been through the years? How about other battle flags and country flags? The Nazi shit isn't the only stuff out there. Try challenging your customers instead of trying to shock them in some lame assed over done way.

3. The prices are ridiculous. I usually go trying to find low priced ammo, and normally I will leave with large quantities of said cheap ammo. I left with 100 rounds today, 50 in 40 S&W and 50 in 380. I would have done more had the brands of ammo been even slightly recognizable. I had never heard of these brands and I was not sure how my guns would react to them. So one box of each. Until next time, guy.

3A. Don't make fun of the prices local dealers have when you don't know their prices. I ran into one table where the owner and the customer were making fun of the store I work at. Without telling them I worked there, I pointed out a shotgun to them both. It was the Remington 870 Express 18". Where I work, it goes for $315.95. At his table it was $385.75. That is about a $70 jump from where I work. And I pointed out his prices kept up this way, going up $70 - $100 for each weapon, and he only had one rifle we don't sell at the store I work at.

4. All pawn shops. Not all, but I am used to seeing dealers with brand new guns, not this many pawn shops. And I'm sorry, maybe it is just me, but I refuse to buy guns from pawn shops. I don't know where they've been.

5. Horrific displays. I mean, cases where the guns were not lined up, just tossed in all willy-nilly, and the cases were a mess themselves. I am not going to buy a gun from a dealer who has no respect for their products. These are not well cared for guns and I would be afraid of getting a piece of shit and having no recourse.

6. Ignoring the females. I actually never ran into this at a gun show before, but I was ignored today. At one table, the guy running it even asked me to get out of the way so he could help the guy behind me!

About half way through the show I stumbled upon a co-worker of mine, and we ended up running around the show together for a little while, then we left together. So that was fun. We were looking at old military rifles and what have you, at least two I wanted badly and they were both actually priced well. I found a pretty M1 with a chestnut stock for about $950 and a Swiss K-31, actually several, between $129 and $159. Not bad prices at all. And that M1 was in excellent condition. If only I had money! LOL!

I did get a few good laughs. One table had these huge weapons, I didn't look too close, but they appeared to be 50 BMGs. Taped on the barrel of one was a sign that read, "Will trade for a Rolex." And, of course, the signs going in. I always smile at the signs entering the fair grounds stating "no weapons allowed" as I am heading for the gun show, but the one going into the building made me chuckle. "Unload your guns. ALL OF THEM!" You get the image of someone walking in with 16 loaded guns, but working in a gun store, I also know how needed the emphasis on "all" is. LOL! We do not allow loaded guns in the store, but we still get someone who keeps one loaded, we ask him to unload his guns, and he says, "All of them?"

The people watching factor wasn't very high today. Not too many people caught my attention. So either I have lived down South too long, been working in a gun store too long, or there really wasn't any interesting characters there today.

 

I found out what happened to Dave. He's seeing someone else. Do you think he ever bothered to contact me and break up with me? Of course not! He just stopped contacting me and figured that was good enough. Exactly how much of a coward can a man be?

I feel sorry for this new girl, I really do. He's all or nothing from the very start and wants to be on the fast track to marriage by the second date (seriously, I had to keep reminding him I wouldn't marry him before we'd dated for at least a year). And on top of that, he isn't over Dallas. I knew more about his ex-girlfriend (Dallas) than I knew about him, which is why I was losing interest.

So I figured he rates people by importance in reality by how he ranks them on MySpace... I deleted him and then blocked him. In his little world, that will say a lot.

I forgot there was a gun show this weekend! I sat here in my house all day trying to get an idea of what to do, and by the time I remembered there was a huge gun show this weekend it was too late. So I am going to try to get there tomorrow. I don't even remember when I was at a gun show last.

Needless to say, though, I didn't do anything today. Dad was asleep for a good portion of the day, which is great, but now that means he won't be going to bed tonight.

I want to work on a story tonight, but writers block has had a solid grip on me for almost three months now. I'm sure the people who were reading it have lost interest by now. I really have to stop writing long chapter stories. Obviously I can't do it in a timely fashion.

Well, guess that's it for tonight.

 

His tests went ok today, he came through them well. The news, however, was not good.

He has 91% blockage in one artery, 60% in another, and his heart has created its own bypass. If his heart had not done this, he would have died some time ago. He has an appointment with his dentist tomorrow so they can fix his teeth, thus lowering the chances of any kind of infection in his body.

After that, they do valve replacement and double bypass surgery. This will be happening in the very, very near future, like... within the next week or two.

Until then, he can't do anything. No gym, no lawn mowing, no lifting of objects over 5 lbs. And needless to say, he is very depressed right now. Mom is feeling the strain on many levels, wondering about the future, but also having to deal with him.


 

I promise the two are not related! ;)

So I made it out to the newly opened archery range in Raleigh and found myself on the range with a rented recurve bow and three arrows. Much cheaper sport! With the lane rental, the rented bow, and rented arrows, it only cost me $10.

It wasn't so bad. I even hit the paper a couple of times! LOL! Obviously, I need a lot of work, but I think I did really well for a first timer who pretty much had to figure it out on her own. The guy taught me how to load up an arrow, but that was it. I didn't even know how to hold the bow, someone else on the range popped over to show me. Then actually firing an arrow was covered by someone else briefly. I don't even know what poundage the bow was. But I take it as a good sign that I fired no arrows higher than I could reach when I had to retrieve them. LOL! I'll be going back for more.

As for dad. It was another pass out and fall thing like last year when he landed in the hospital while I was at work. Only this time the damage was much worse. I haven't seen him yet. They had him in for stitches and all that goodness, so mom told me not to drive out there.

Unfortunetly, he fell at work. He and some co-workers went for a walk at lunch but it began to rain. They ran uphill to the building to dodge the storm, but when he reached the building he passed out, catching his face on a window sill outside the building.

His teeth went through the skin below his lower lip, several of his teeth are broken, he has another shiner (same eye), and he lost a lot of blood. He was taken to Duke by ambulance.

His fears right now are that his company is going to force him to retire. I hope not. He can't afford to retire, especially with a heart condition which may require surgery this time. But he's 63 years old and this one happened at work, so his higher ups know exactly what happened this time. I hope his fears prove to be unfounded, because if they come true, we're in for some hard times. What a world we live in, though, when these are worries. You'd think people like my dad just don't count anymore. Nevermind all the good years he's put in, he might lose his job because at 63 he has a heart condition. God forbid he isn't pulling tractor trailers with his teeth!

I've decided I like working in gun sales, but I need to get aggressive about getting a job that pays something, like sending resumes to every company I see, hiring or not. I was hoping to get trained more on the 4473s, with the hopes of it maybe being a benifit in trying to get a job with a gun maker like Sig or Smith & Wesson. But it isn't happening yet, and I'm not sure how much longer I can deal with having no money. And if my father gets forced to retire, I'm going to need to move out to take some of the burden off my parents. I could probably make due for a short while, but moving out would be needed in the near future, even though he'll never actually say that to me.

This whole ordeal is scary, though. It was bad the first time, but it is worse the second time. The second time means this is getting worse. And I know my parents can't live forever, but you are never ready when things like this happen. And when your parents start getting older, you start to realize you don't have anyone else in the world. I'm not the relationship type, apparently, so I have to get myself ready for a life alone. And I can't do that with the jobs I've been landing - gun sales and armored transport. But I can't seem to get anyone to look my way. Since I started here in December I've put out more resumes than I can count, and not a single one has responded. I got offered the job at that one car dealership, but that would have been like walking into the seventh level of hell if the interview was any sign of things to come.

I guess only time will tell.

 

If you have a second, this guy's name is Calvin Nichols. If you like custom blade work, this guy really deserves a look. Remember when looking at the photos, the blades are not painted. Those designs are done directly into the metal and they go all the way through (the pictures don't do them justice, but I know how the process is done to get those designs... it takes a long assed time and a lot of patience to do that). Seeing them in person is breath taking. I wish I had about $2000 because the two knives he had that I fell for would equal that price. But I'd need a display case because these were some of the most beatuful works of art I have seen to date (with the exception of some of the amazing engraving work I've seen done on revolvers).

Here is the URL to his knife pictures: http://www.nicholscustomknives.com/knives.htm

Please take a moment and have a look, you won't regret it. (don't forget to look at the grips, too, he spends just as much time on those!)

 

Ok, so that was a kind way of saying I did next to nothing. Got my car tuned up, it seems to be running a shit load better, but we'll see tomorrow when I start it up.

After I picked the car up, I stopped by the UPS store to send off a holster that I gave away as a prize on a forum. He should have that by Thursday. Funny part of that is that the guy who won lives in Pa., but his daughter lives here, so he actually shops where I work when he comes to visit. How odd.

Got my first negative feedback on eBay. Oooo. I tried to dispute the claim but it didn't work. It was for a CD I'd won. After I won, the woman decided she would only take a bank transfer so my check came back. A bank transfer costs $40, so I refused to spend $40 to transfer $5. The plus side is she left her feedback in what I think is German. I took the feedback to two different translators online and got two different answers. I doubt most people I usually deal with on eBay, the few times I use the damn site, will know what she had to say. Besides... normally they accept paypal so I pay right away. Not many people need to look at my feedback, really. I go on the site once in a blue moon anyway, so what the fuck do I care.

Haven't heard from David in two weeks so I am officially calling the relationship over. I wrote him an email about a week ago, he sent a short reply, I sent another reply and he hasn't written since. Seeing as how he considered it to be such a big deal when he moved me to number 1 on his MySpace friends list (how fucking cheesy is that?) and now I'm number 8, I assume he lost interest. Mom asked me about him earlier this evening and I told her all of this, minus the MySpace thing because that is really just too fucking lame to tell your mom about and she asked if I was hurt or anything. And you know what? I'm really not. The two weeks passed without me really thinking about it much. I just thought about it this past weekend and thought, "Ah, well." He wanted to be in a serious relationship as fast he could get into one. I haven't dated anyone since I was 18. So I wasn't about to have that whole sex on the first date and acting like we've been together for three years by the second.

I'm one of those people who doesn't believe in love at first sight. I was interested but still armed when he decided, on our third date, to tell me he was falling for me. And maybe for some people that works out. But not for me. I was still getting my bearings at that point, trying to figure out what he was all about. I guess when the subject of children came up on our first date, it should have been a red flag.

Isn't usually the woman who is half crazed and in a hurry to get married and have a family?

I got some cleaning done today as well. Not a whole lot, but it is good enough for now.

Also discovered that the best move I made this week was calling Wachovia and having them stop the car payment. I have more than enough to send in for my medical bill this month even after the check for my credit card goes through. The next check will go to my car and I'll have $200 left over this month! I'm actually going to put something in my savings account instead of taking it out! WOOHOO! I'll probably have to call the credit union in a week or so to find out what I owe on my MasterCard for this month so we don't have this issue again. I haven't gotten a bill for this month. What I just paid was last month. I figure the next payment is due July 8th, and I have no bill for it. So next week I'll call and try to find out what the deal is there. That should be the last of the credit card payments for them. I already shredded the card so it can't be used again. I am serious this time. I am not putting up with that bank's crap anymore.

 

Some things I don't get about customers in a gun store.

1. Calling to ask dumb questions. Who calls a gun store and says, "What have you got in 9MM?" Well, let's see... how about every gun company that has made one! And then... hey, don't get pissed at me when I say in response, "Can you be more specific?" And seriously don't start naming every gun company you've ever heard of. If you want a 9MM and don't know what brand... try doing some research. It is a costly investment, and research would be in your best interest. Come on in! I'll show you what we have! But there are a lot of 9MM handguns out there, I can't list them all for you on the phone.

2. Coming into a gun shop and telling the person behind the counter, "I'm looking for something to use as home defense, but I really don't like guns" 20 minutes into being shown guns. Ok, how about a kitchen knife or a heavy lamp? It would save you some time and money. If you really don't like guns and don't want one in your house, don't come in and spend my time looking at them all, then telling me you hate guns and don't want one in the house. This is a gun store. When someone asks for home protection, I'm going to show them guns. Imagine that! If you want a taser, say so! If you want pepper spray, say so! Don't come in and grease up our guns with your dirty hands only to tell me twenty minutes later that you didn't really want a gun but something else. Come in and say, first thing, "I don't really want a gun, but I want something for home protection. Do you have anything?" I can show you tasers, pepper spray, batons, etc. and it won't waste the time of you or me by going through cases upon cases of guns.

3. Telling me you have kids who you refuse to tell anything about a gun you are going to have in your home, and expecting that a large amount of safeties on a gun will protect the kid when they find it. I had a guy in today who partly fits with the above rant, but he was interested kind of in guns. He wanted a gun that had as many safeties on it as possible, in case his kids found it. But he wasn't going to tell them the gun was in the house, nor was he going to teach them any gun safety, because "They aren't going to be using it."

My response? "I'm sorry, sir, I can't sell you a gun. Can I interest you in a taser instead?" My reason, and I gave it to him, is that a kid is going to find it. His sons were both still young enough that a gun unknown to them is still a toy if they know nothing about guns. But they were old enough that they could leave them home alone for an hour or so. Kids, being kids and all, will go through closets, drawers, etc. looking for things mommy and daddy have that they can play with (and we all know the hunt is on around Christmas and birthdays for presents in hiding places), or things they aren't supposed to touch. So what happens if they find daddy's gun and know nothing about gun safety or that this is even a real gun? "I won't keep the ammo anywhere near it." "So what do you do if, in the middle of the night, someone gets into your house? Are you going to ask him to stand there and wait a minute while you load your gun after you somehow find the ammo in the dark and in a half asleep and panicked stupor?"

I explained to him that before he buys a gun, he and his wife need to take a basic gun class so they can learn gun safety (there are plenty offered in the area), and then they have to teach it to their kids if they don't bring the kids to the class, too. I told him his idea of safety was actually more dangerous than he thought. If the kids know nothing about the gun, they can hurt themselves or kill themselves when they do find it... and they will find it, no matter what you do. Kids are good like that. But it was also dangerous to him if he put the ammo in a different room, because when you need it, an empty gun will just piss off an attacker. And in the middle of the night, when you've just been woken up by breaking glass or something of that nature, panic and sleepy headedness are mixing to such a degree that locating the gun safe (which he also wants one that takes his fingerprint, and we don't sell them if they even exist) is going to be hard enough, then finding the ammo and loading the magazine... he'll be dead before he gets the ammo. So I told him I would not sell him a gun until he and his wife have learned proper gun safety. It is an accident waiting to happen, and an accident that could be prevented if good intentions and good thoughts are replaced by actual gun knowledge. Until then, he and his wife need to consider something "non-lethal." I told him if the kids find the taser and get hit with it, it will hurt like hell but they will most likely survive and never do that again (I say "most likely" because there is always a chance death could occur, which is why we had to sign wavers when we were tased that time. Heart conditions, etc. are an example). But with a gun and no gun knowledge and safety basics, they were more likely to die or become a vegetable.

Yeah, I prefer a gun to a taser, because I don't trust the taser to put the guy down long enough for me to get away, no matter if he gets tased for 3 seconds or 30. If someone is hopped up on drugs or has been tased numerous times before, it may have no after effect when you run out of juice. And pepper spray is the same, especially if you have someone attack you that did time in the military. They've been gas chambered and sprayed so many times that they can keep going through it most likely. A gun will stop them from attacking. Either permanently or at least enough so they can't chase you. But in a house with kids, if you refuse to sit down with your kids and talk to them about this gun and the safety involved... you are asking for tragedy. I would be willing to bet that 9 out of 10 times, kids who have accidentally shot themselves or someone else were never taught proper gun safety. You can't expect the rest of the world to take the blame for something that falls on you. If you bring a gun into your house, kids or not, you should know how to handle it, respect it, care for it, and keep everyone safe. You are responsible for anything that gun does, because it won't do anything by itself. So if you refuse to do the above things, the blame can only be laid on you.
 

And it started out so well! I sold a shotgun, a Mossberg 20 ga with a pistol grip, and I also sold a Springfield XD40. Not too bad for a slow Monday. Then the head cashier realized that, since I am now a sales person, we could actually go to lunch together, so we hit a local salad buffet place and had a blast for our hour off.

Then it hit the fan.

A call comes in while we were out that was for the head cashier. It was her husband, and he had an emergency. So when she gets back up front, she calls her husband to find out that one of her sisters found her youngest brother dead this morning. He was around 51 years old. We don't know any details; no one really wanted to ask. One cashier lead her off into the manager's office since he was off with a customer, then I closed the door and stood guard to keep everyone else away from her. People mean well and want to make everything better, but the woman was hysterical crying and all she needed at that moment was a few minutes alone to cry. The only people I let past me were the sales manager and the store president.

Then later on someone else leaks some bad news about a now ex-employee. It was this one sales guy who hadn't been there long, but he had some issues. We knew at some point he'd had a tracheotomy because he had the scar from it. But he'd also had several brain surgeries and facial surgeries, all of which were evident, and they were all mostly connected to each other. However, he'd gone for a check up a few weeks ago and they found "something" in his brain. This resulted in him having to quit, and when he came in for his final paycheck he had a needle in his arm and a pack on his hip that contained penicillin. But, apparently, as we're all wishing him well and seriously hoping the best, someone who knew what was actually going on accidentally let it slip that whatever the issue is, it's terminal.

At times like this, it only really takes little things to bother you. Like while we were cleaning tonight I discovered that one of the Neanderthals that had been in the store today didn't have the common sense to go into the bathroom or outside, so he just hocked a giant loogey on the floor for me to clean up hours later when it had had some time to fester. Then tonight I realized that I spend too much time on my feet, 10 hours a day without sitting, which is fine if I'm being honest. But it wasn't so good tonight when my left foot decided to protest during my belly dancing class, rendering me unable to do the footwork. So I spent an hour doing "seaweed arms" and "arm waves" while everyone else is learning shimmies and the "Arabic Ones."

It wasn't a bad day, per say. We laughed a lot, we were actually more active than yesterday, but we had a lot of depressing undertones. It was a mixed sort of day.
 

LET'S be honest. He's scared of the thing. That's understandable--so am I. But as a girl I have the luxury of being able to admit it. I don't have to masquerade squeamishness as grand principle - in the interest of mankind, no less.

A man does. He has to say things like "One Taniqua Hall is one too many," as a New York radio talk show host did in referring to the 9-year old New York girl who was accidentally shot last year by her 12 year old cousin playing with his uncle's gun. But the truth is he desperately needs Taniqua Hall, just like he needs as many Columbines and Santees as can be mustered, until they spell an end to the Second Amendment. And not for the benefit of the masses, but for the benefit of his self esteem.

He often accuses men with guns of "compensating for something." The truth is quite the reverse. After all, how is he supposed to feel knowing there are men out there who aren't intimidated by the big bad inanimate villain? How is he to feel in the face of adolescent boys who have used the family gun effectively in defending the family from an armed intruder? So if he can't touch a gun, he doesn't want other men to be able to either. And to achieve his ends, he'll use the only weapon he knows how to manipulate: the law.

Of course, sexual and psychological insecurities don't account for ALL men against guns. Certainly there must be some whose motives are pure, who perhaps do care so much as to tirelessly look for policy solutions to teenage void and aggressiveness, and to parent and teacher negligence. But for a potentially large underlying contributor, psycho-sexual inadequacy has gone unexplored and unacknowledged. It's one thing to not be comfortable with a firearm and therefore opt to not keep or bear one. But it's another to impose the same handicap onto others.

People are suspicious of what they do not know - and not only does this man not know how to use a gun, he doesn't know the men who do, or the number of people who have successfully used one to defend themselves from injury or death. But he is better left in the dark; his life is hard enough knowing there are men out there who don't sit cross-legged. That they're able to handle a firearm instead of being handled by it would be too much to bear.

Such a man is also best kept huddled in urban centers, where he feels safer than he might if thrown out on his own into a rural setting, in an isolated house on a quiet street where he would feel naked and helpless. Lacking the confidence that would permit him to be sequestered in sparseness, and lacking a gun, he finds comfort in the cloister of crowds.

The very ownership of a gun for defense of home and family implies some assertiveness and a certain self reliance. But if our man kept a gun in the house, and an intruder broke in and started attacking his wife in front of him, he wouldn't be able to later say, "He had a knife--there was nothing I could do!" Passively watching in horror while already trying to make peace with the violent act, scheduling a therapy session and forgiving the perpetrator before the attack is even finished wouldn't be the option it otherwise is.

No. Better to emasculate all men. Because let's face it: He's a lover, not a fighter. And he doesn't want to get shot in case he has an affair with your wife. Of course, it wouldn't be completely honest not to admit that owning a firearm carries with it some risk to unintended targets. That's the tradeoff with a gun: The right to defend one's life and way of life isn't without peril to oneself. And the last thing this man wants to do is risk his life - if even to save it. For he is guided by a dread fear for his life, and has more confidence in almost anyone else's ability to protect him than his own, preferring to place himself at the mercy of the villain or in the sporadically competent hands of authorities (his line of defense consisting of locks, alarm systems, reasoning with the attacker, calling the police or, should fighting back occur to him, thrashing a heavy vase).

In short, he is a man begging for subjugation. He longs for its promise of equality in helplessness. Because only when that strange, independent alpha breed of male is helpless along with him will he feel adequate. Indeed, his freedom lies in this other man's containment.

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Julia Gorin is a 29 year old writer, commentator and stand-up comedienne who lives with her husband and pit bull in New York City. Born in the former Soviet Union, Julia emigrated to the United States as a toddler. She grew up in Baltimore, Maryland and moved to New York ten years ago with dreams of fame, fortune and stardom. Educated at the City University of New York's Hunter College, Julia has written opinion pieces for the Washington Times, LA Times, Philadelphia Inquirer, and Christian Science Monitor. While not a dyed in the wool firearms aficionado, Julia is a firm believer in the Constitution of the United States - and that includes the Second Amendment.

This article was reprinted from the April 2002 issue of The Jewish World Review.
 

Ahem. I know, the title is gross. Sorry. But after an hour and half on the range today, I spent the night doing that. I managed to almost clear the range, which was a first. Not with my nose, no.

Sort of mixed feelings on the range today. I had a half day at work, a butt load of ammo, and two guns in tow, so I decided to work on my "Sig fear" issues. Apparently, I found the cure. I'll get there.

Started out with the Bersa, and I was not doing well with it at all. If I'd been using it in action, the guy would have received one heck of a gut shot, but I wasn't hitting the orange a whole lot. I put 50 through it before I decided to switch over to the Sig. I decided I was warmed up enough and it was now time to take the plunge.

I went in well prepared. I had my trusty hearing protection rigged up for new glasses. They Velcro to the outside of the hearing protection, this way you don't break the seal on the ear protection, and the glasses fit a little more snug. I buttoned my shirt to the neck, regardless of it being uber uncomfortable, but it kept the shells from going down my shirt, which was the whole idea in the first place.

But I found the cure. My first ten shots... not so good. But then I heard something I decided to play with. We had one of our security companies out there qualifying. So I hear him belting out the directions, "Two shots, two seconds... go!" I followed suit. As he changed the directions for each set, I followed. So, apparently, the cure was to go through state qualifying again. I shot one handed, one handed with my weak hand, on my knees, etc. It was fun. And more importantly, shooting in that manner made me forget about getting burned by the gun. Now I just have to see if that loss of fear continues on my next trip out with my Sig. If not, I may put myself through the state qualifying repeatedly until I become more comfortable just shooting for fun again.

There was only one problem. It appears I bought a shitty box of ammo. My gun didn't turn her muzzle up at them like it usually does and refuse to play nice. I got my shots off. But my first sign that something was horribly wrong was the dark orange fireball that came out of the gun when I fired. Now, my revolver spits fire every time I shoot, so I'm used to that. But it isn't like this. It was a dark, something has caught fire orange. My Sig spits some fire on occasion, but never like this.

Aside from this, I had clouds of smoke billowing out of my lane, eventually drifting down range and getting so bad that it actually obscured the targets that were more than 15 yards away. People began to cough. Myself included. I put the gun down and grabbed one of the shells, then headed for the range officers.

Nothing seemed to be wrong with the ammo in appearance, but there was something wrong. My gun is fine, not even really any messier than usual. Nothing was out of the ordinary in appearance of the ammo. But I had clouds of smoke to prove something wasn't right. And it was the ammo, not the gun. Another range customer fronted me 10 rounds of his own 40 S&W by Remington, and it was the normal low smoke, low fire shooting, but went back to fires of hell and smoke of a burned roast when I went back to my ammo.

I still put about 80 rounds through the gun before I couldn't take it anymore and left the range in a coughing fit. I got home and spent the night blowing black shit out of my nose.

So, it's a box of 225 rounds and I only used about 80 of them. I need to find me an outdoor range to kill the rest of these rounds on. It was obvious today that I can't do it indoors again. So the hunt begins.