At the firing range, he’s armed and unnerved
RAISED by a Korean War veteran who happily relinquished his only firearm the day he was discharged from the Army and by a woman who espoused a turn-the-other-cheek brand of Christianity, I never had much of a taste for gunplay. So it was with complete ignorance and respectful curiosity that I walked into the L.A. Gun Club, a gun store and rental facility with a 15-aisle shooting range in the back.
Knowing far more about the 1st Amendment than the 2nd, I was surprised at just how easy it is to rent a pistol for use on the premises -- sign and thumbprint a form exonerating the club from liability, state that you’re neither nuts nor on drugs, and you’re good. It’s cheap too: A mere $5 for my weapon of choice, a nine-millimeter Glock.
Even more surprising was the brevity of the unscripted safety course the friendly front clerk, Luis, gave to someone who’d checked “novice” to the question of experience. To be fair, there’s not that much involved in loading and firing a handgun. By the time John Lennon’s “Woman” finished its surreal spin in the lobby’s speakers, I was ready to go.
Or so I thought.
Walking through the double doors into the shooting gallery, everything changed. The scent of gunpowder hit me like smelling salts and -- as I’d forgotten to put on the obligatory ear protection -- the sound of it exploding was just devastatingly loud. Scrambling back into the antechamber to gear up, I reentered with a feeling of dread that only got worse once I reached my designated stall. Screaming to be heard over gunfire and through earmuffs, an instructor was leading a phalanx of security guard trainees through a drill with a disturbingly real firing-squad finale: “One . . . two . . . three . . . FIRE!”
With guns blazing all around me, I bided my time, awkwardly loading the Glock’s magazine and jerking like President Ford at a balloon-popping contest every time a spent cartridge flew over the dividers and landed on my head.
Then finally, after advancing my target on the dry-cleaner-style conveyance, I took careful aim and fired. The recoil the relatively light weapon produced was indescribable.
Returning to something like equilibrium after expending a few dozen rounds, I reeled in the target sheet. And looking at the holes in the human silhouette -- broken down by internal organ with points to match -- I discovered that, for a beginner, I am a deadly shot. I felt a strangely muted pride.
-- Liam.Gowing@latimes.com
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THE L.A. GUN CLUB
WHERE: 1375 E. 6th St., L.A.
WHEN: 3 to 11 p.m. Mondays to Thursdays, 11 a.m. to 11 p.m. Fridays to Sundays
PRICE: $5 to $10 per pistol; $10 per 50 rounds; range fee, $12-$18 per hour
INFO: thelosangelesgunclub.com
