When Hubbs and I first started dating, we had a dinner date at some restaurant or another. I wore a skirt and heels, Hubbs wore slacks and a tie. We decided that before dinner, we would hit our local indoor shooting range.
He had never seen me shoot before, though I had told him stories of what a good shot I was. We showed up at the range, picked up a few targets, and proceeded to the shooting area (Forgive my terminology-just because I can use a gun doesn't mean I know what half this shit is called).
I chose the paper target that was an outline of a man, with all the vital organs detailed-pancreas, heart, stomach, etc...
I said "Watch-I'll shoot him right in the pancreas"-score!
"Watch this-right in the throat"-score!
I hit at least 80% of the body parts I was aiming at that night. In a skirt. And heels. Here's a picture of my baby-a .45 caliber Ruger Blackhawk.
I'm impressed. Not only does she own one of the guns that I would love to have, they go shooting before going on a dinner date.