Took neighbor "Bill" to range on Saturday. Bill is kind of a strange bird. Asks a lot of stupid "how come" questions and has a really bad outlook on everything most of the time. An example of the "how come..." questions is the exchange we had over Blazer rounds.
"I'll pick up some of the cheapie Blazers at Academy."
"You can use in your Glock, but you ain't using 'em in my weapons."
"I really don't want to get into a physics lesson with you."
"Then make it simple."
"You're not using aluminum casing in my guns. Period."
Later on at the range, I showed him some burst Blazer casings on the ground and hinted that it might be a bit of a dangerous situation, especially in fluted barrels, etc. Brass eliminates my concerns and brass is what I use.
As for his outlook, we were having a nice lunch on a picnic table near a BBQ stand before the range time. It was clear as a bell outside, not too hot, and fairly dry, which is an amazing combo for Houston. His comment was "Man, this place is gonna be packed. It'll be miserable." I just rolled my eyes.
We get there and get an entire bay to ourselves. I pull out a pair of gloves and start arranging steel. The "how comes" were already starting up and I just told him we were going to shoot pistol rounds onto steel targets. I set up some cardboard targets on the berm for the rifle rounds. Went through the range rules, explained the etiquette if somebody else showed up, pointed to the cr*pper, and then showed how there were no holes in the shelter (unlike every other range in Houston) and that he was to keep it that way.
We start prepping all the guns. It was a festival of weaponry. I had brought a P2000SK in .40, an HK91, a FA MP5, a USPf .45, and an AR15 with a couple of different uppers. He brought his Glock 9mm and his Benelli Mk 4 with mall-ninja collapsible stock. Did I mention that my 91 has the collapsible "cheese grater" stock? Did I mention that I have neuropathy, and a resultant reduced capacity to realize when my body is getting injured? Hmm...
I get him comfortable shooting steel with his Glock and he starts to understand why I enjoy steel so much. He start concentrating on getting COM hits instead of shooting bullseyes and... his accuracy goes up. We move over to his shotgun and step back a bit and start eating up the better part of a case of shells. He's still in awe that there's hardly anyone there. I then move us to the MP5. He'd never shot FA before and I went through the safety drill an operation of the weapon. Before he could say anything I just told him to shut up and listen; no questions. I'd worry about his stance and technique later. He throws that thing up on his shoulder, gets his feet all bladed, tosses out the right elbow in his best "chicks dig it / chicken wing" pose and looks like he's prepping for the recoil of a Howitzer. It took everything I had to keep from falling down laughing after he went through the first mag. We started trading off between the MP5 and pistols and as he got more comfortable with the MP5, I started working on his stance and control. Of course, he started whining about it feeling uncomfortable and that it couldn't be right. He told me it felt like I was teaching him how to play golf. To which I told him that he sucked at golf and that he has always sucked at golf and that the reason for that is that he was incapable of absorbing a golf lesson. "Yeah, so. I still have fun." "But you would have more fun if you scored better." I showed him that with a few changes he could, indeed, improve his control with the gun... despite that it didn't feel right.
After awhile, we moved on to the rifles. The AR purred like a kitten, especially since I had replaced all the bolt carriers with some 60's vintage hard chromed M16 carriers. So much smoother (and so much easier to clean!). We dumped a lot of rounds through the carbine length (I liked the vertical grip, he didn't... whiner) and we both thoroughly enjoyed the 10.5" SBR configuration. Then we went to the 91. I expected a complaint and I got one: "Man, this is a heavy pig." "Just as heavy as your shotgun..." We proceeded to blast away with the thing, taking a few breaks with the MP5 to let things cool down. He eventually smiled and admitted that the whole session was pretty cool and fun.
Bill had bough a bunch of 9mm to contribute to the cause and then realized how much of my stash he had "spent" in rifle calibers. He wound up taking me out to the bar near the range for an after shoot cool down and then he took me and my whole family out to dinner later on (good guy). About that cheese grater...
The end of the collapsible stock on most HK's looks and feels like a cheese grater. Most people can feel the thing digging in and are able to adjust the positioning so that the same spot on the shoulder doesn't get continuously chewed up. Not me. I have a giant spot on my shoulder that looks like a blood blistered, multi-colored bruised road rash courtesy of that cheese grater. A heckuva good time!