Aim low!

There are certain things you'll never know you're terrible at until you try them. For instance, I never knew that I couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a 9MM Glock until recently.

One of the things Leslie and I were keen to do on our vacation in Las Vegas was to shoot guns, which of course we said with the same gravity as "get drunk" and "ride rollercoasters." Whoo! Party! Actually, I'm surprised that there's not somewhere to shoot guns on a rollercoaster that serves top shelf liquor. We would have definitely signed up in advance.

The next best option is The Gun Store. It's kind of a surreal experience and perhaps one of dubious safety. After all, given that the rallying cry of Las Vegas is "open container," it's a little uncomfortable to stand in line with a pack of guys who YOU KNOW have just finished a Yard of Margarita as they're handed automatic weapons and live rounds. The staff at The Gun Store, all of whom carry holstered weapons like they're some kind of on-call, volunteer SWAT, are a combination of chipper and stridently official. They seem to take the business of weaponry quite seriously, considering their clientle are basically people who are making a pit stop between the titty bar and the all-you-can-eat buffet at Barbary Coast.

I decided on a semi-automatic handgun for two reasons - first, because I didn't want to blow my entire stock of ammo in two shots and second, so that I didn't dislocate my shoulder with some wicked recoil. Also, Glocks are pretty bad ass guns. Truth be told, the selection of guns was somewhat overwhelming and I felt safer sticking with what I knew. If it's good enough for gangstas, it's good enough for me.

The selection of targets is pretty extensive as well, although the popular favorites are undoubtably those in the Terrorist Collection - Osama, Saddam, random brown person, etc. As the guy behind the counter asked our friend Gwyther, "Which A-Rab did you want there, buddy?" This probably makes more sense as Gwyther was renting an AK-47 (he had a coupon). By far the most awesome choice - Chris and I both picked it - was the target featuring a guy holding a cowering flight attendant hostage ABOARD AN AIRPLANE. So let me get this straight: I can't bring my hair products in my carry-on luggage, but packing a handgun in the overhead bin is a logical scenario. Naturally. Leslie chose an armed mugger who looked strangely like Mario Lopez.

After a cursory yet Very Serious overview of how to load and handle your gun ("Don't point it at your head!"), we were pretty much left to load and fire our weapons of choice. For no reason in particular, I walked into the shooting range having never even touched a gun before in my life and still somehow secure in the idea that I was an expert shot. This was primarily due to the fact that when I walk around New York City at night, I listen to the soundtrack from "The Matrix" and pretend I'm a secret agent. No, I'm not kidding. So naturally I assumed that I possessed some innate marksmanship. This is not the case. Not only was I caught off guard by the kickback but, let's face it - I'm painfully nearsighted. Aiming is not really an option. I couldn't even tell if I was hitting the target at all, never mind where on the target. My terrorist was not in a whole lot of danger. A little late in the game, I realized the trick is to aim low to compensate for the recoil. This was after I had emptied most of my rounds into the ceiling or the floor.

As a nice bonus, you get to keep your target as a souvenir of your experience - or, in my case, as a record of your total incompetence. By comparison, Chris - who, keep in mind, had the same target and nearly the same gun that I did - managed to take out the terrorist without a single shot in the flight attendant. As we were walking out, he said, "I guess any time I want to go into business as a hitman, I'm good to go." Someone passing us replied, "There's a lot of money in that."

Nice to know that Chris at least has some lucrative career options. Maybe I can be his booking agent - 10% of death is fine by me.