Usually people associate guns and co-workers with a terrible tragedy they hear on the evening news. But at my job, guns bring the employees together. With a disproportionate number of gun activists at my work, I suggested we go trap shooting for our next team building activity.
The two co-workers I work the closest with is Atkins and Frank (first names are hidden to protect them. But I really just call them by their last names because they share the same first name). As an older single LDS girl, I’ve been forced to find a job and work—with the same people day after day after day. Fortunately, I work with cool people, so it makes it easier to show up every day after day after day. (But I often feel I get to know them a little more than I’d like to e.g. they openly talk about their vasectomies.)
I’ve worked with Frank everyday for over a year and a half. He’s the nice, quiet, put-your-shoulder-to-the-wheel kind of worker. He has absolutely no self-control over my chocolate chip cookies (post on those babies later) and gets really embarrassed when someone gives him a hug. Frank releases his pent up fury with weekend paintball battles. He is a fanatic, and his paintball team Bad Karma just got a prestigious sponsorship. He always tries to invite me to his paintball matches, saying there are plenty of young single guys there for me date. I ask him if he would ever set up his daughter with one of his teammates, to which he doesn’t reply.
Atkins joined our team last fall. He was quiet at first, but always talked really loud when it came to politics and the End of the World (EOTW for short). Atkins believes EOTW is just around the corner. He goes to the food storage center every weekend to buy wheat and supplies. One day I mentioned a cool movie preview I saw the previous weekend. Atkins asked, “why haven’t I heard of this movie?” I replied, “Because people usually go to the movies on Saturday rather than buy wheat.” In addition to stocking up on food and supplies for EOTW, Atkins has built his personal arsenal. In the past few months, he has purchased 2 handguns and an AK-47. He’d wear his drop-leg holster to work everyday if he could. He also pulls out a Rambo knife to cut his apple at his desk.
(What is it with grown men playing army?)
So yesterday afternoon, we gather our shotguns to the Great Salt Lake Gun Club for a couple rounds of trap shooting. I owned them all, winning both rounds. A few clay pigeons I pulverized into dust and would say, “Did I hit the bird because I don’t see it anywhere? Oh, that’s right. It’s because I obliterated it.” After the third time using that same line, they told me the joke wasn’t funny anymore.
My dad, brother Chris, and I recently joined the Heber Valley Gun Club. We joined not only to get a discount on our new hobby (and an upcoming Badger Family Championship, see post on June 16), but we also joined mainly because we think it’s cool to tell people we are members of the Heber Valley Gun Club.
It’s open every Thursday night, and I invite anyway interested to tag along with me. Below are some pictures. Check out how happy I am after blasting a bird.
**So if you date Jenny, you don’t have to like guns but know that she does. If you do, you needn’t be embarrassed if she shoots better than you. Her co-workers handled it pretty well. And if EOTW happens while on a date with Jenny, take comfort that she could protect you.
