Today was a good day. I spent the majority of it at the range. I ran through lots of weapons... keep myself familiar and just working them out. Funny thing though...
So the fella shooting next to me has a very nice custom Springfield 1911.
This gun had been worked over big time. Someone loved it.
So imagine this... I'm in one lane shooting my wife's former carry gun... a PT-140. This is a very small framed pistol. It was built for reliability and concealment. Its not for competition.
In the other lane... this dude is shooting a custom 1911... from my beloved Springfield Armory Custom Shop no less.
We were both shooting similar targets.... you know the ones.. those black things that turn green where you hit. The Taurus is doing better than expected. Every shot is 8 ring or better.. almost all were in the 9 ring. I will use the words... extremely satisfied.
My neighbor however... boldly announced that he had emptied 3 mags and had yet to hit paper. Understand... we were shooting from 25 yards. Lots of people can't hit shit at 25 yards. The average cop can't hit shit at 25 feet.
So I hear...
"Hey buddy... I really need to know if this is me or my gun... do you mind firing a few rounds?"
Understand... this is like the guy with the hottest wife you've ever seen asking you to bang her brains out right in front of him. Like you're doin' him a favor... Its a little weird.
"Sure.. no problem!"
So... I fondle her softly. She's tight. The slide to frame fit has been worked... ooooo.... she's tight. Night Sights.. extended grip safety... ambi safety... huge mag release... ported barrell... 8 ports! I thought, "Damn... You were built for speed baby."
Still... She wasn't shooting right for her owner... so speed wasn't called for. We needed to know where the bullets were going.
I took my time.
5 shots... I didn't even consider speed. Accuracy was my whole intention. Weaver stance... dominant foot back just a touch... I know I know... you girls shoot Isosolese... Fags. Breathe... barely touch the trigger... increase the pressure a tiny tiny ***BANG***.
She jumped... she fell back into my loving hand and there was the hole... dead nuts in my site picture...
Same thing... only now... there were 1 and a half holes.
3 more shots...
I lowered the weapon to survey the damage.
There were 5 shots in the 10 ring. Each hole was touching at least 1 other hole. The 10 ring was pretty much just gone.
I locked the slide back and handed her back to her owner who was looking at me.... just a blank stare.
"That is one helluva a weapon hoss."
I went back over and started loadin' up the Steyr... He walked over and started talkin' to the only other guy at the range today.
Never said another word to me.