I aced the written CCW test. Despite the fact that it was probably one of the easiest tests I've ever taken, I still studied and even gave Mike the mean librarian glare when he gave me silly answers while I was quizzing him. My inner honors student demanded we get 100%, dammit...and we did.
During the shooting portion of the class, we were instructed on grip, trigger squeeze, and four different shooting positions: bench rest, standing, and single hand with both the strong and the weak hand. We shot 15 rounds from each position - 5 rounds at three different distances - and even though I wasn't allowed to use my laser sights (because what if someday the battery fails?), I still got all of my shots on the paper, if not directly in the center of the bullseye.
The last 25 rounds were for us to practice whatever we worst at - but I asked Leah if I could please shoot something other than single hand, weak hand because my left hand was stinging and almost numb after only 15 rounds. Shooting a double action only, snubnose, airweight .38 caliber revolver with my weakest hand qualifies as Not Fun.
Shooting done, we were awarded our certificates. I looked at Mike and grinned. We did it! Easy peasy. Tonight we're going to the sheriff's office to apply for our licenses.
On the way home, we stopped at the grocery store. I ran in to get what we needed (beer. Duh.) and Mike stayed in the car with the guns. Burning River Pale Ale paid for, I walked across the parking lot, got in the car and Mike said, "You have that whole Tam vibe going on."
I was wearing black Doc Marten's, jeans, a black belt with an empty holster, a long sleeved gray t-shirt...and a baseball cap (required to have one for the CCW class, I had bought myself one the day before).
"What? How? Tam is like 3 feet taller than me and blond," I scoffed.
"I don't know," Mike said, "Maybe it's the hat - but you look really good."
"Riiiiight, okay, sure." I changed the subject, but inside I was giddy with the compliment. Me... tacti-cool!!