A great thing about having an opposites-attract romance is that Jonathan and I are always introducing each other to new things, and helping each other conquer our fears. The only true difference between us is that all my fears are totally legitimate, and most of Jonathan’s have to do with weirdly-textured foods and Southern California.
So a few summers ago we made a deal that Jonathan would have to eat sushi with me if I would willingly go to a shooting range and fire a gun. Seeing as my side of the bargain could end with me accidentally MURDERING EVERYBODY INCLUDING MYSELF, and his could only end deliciously, I feel like I got the raw end of the deal. (The sushi pun was accidental, but I’m not apologizing for or removing it.)
The first time I saw a gun in real life was when I discovered that Jonathan sleeps with his gun directly next to his bed, because apparently he’s more afraid of rural Maryland night burglars than of certain death or vengeful civil war ghosts. I made him take it apart and hide it as a stipulation of me being in the same room as it.
Purposely entering a range FULL OF GUNS operated by people who could obviously kill me and probably had bad grammar was the biggest testament of love I could think of. And, in Jonathan’s defense, one time I ordered chirashi at a sushi bar and put a piece of raw squid sashimi in my mouth without realizing it, and it’s an experience I’d like to forget.
Jonathan agreed not to tell my parents that I’d ever stepped foot in an NRA building (thanks to guest passes from my friend Martin, who I’m still trying not to judge for being an NRA member), and I agreed not to order unagi for Jonathan. Relationships are about compromise.
It took me about five minutes of standing in my booth, holding Jonathan’s 9mm poised to shoot, before I gathered the courage to actually pull the trigger. After which Martin let me borrow something with significantly less kick than Jonathan’s 9mm because I was not ready for that shit.
I didn’t accidentally kill anybody, and it turns out that shooting a gun is actually pretty fun. But please don’t tell my parents I liked it; they’re worried enough as it is that Jonathan is slowly turning me into a republican.
As for Jonathan’s required spicy tuna roll end of the bargain…it did not go as well. For him, that is. It went GREAT for me: