My favorite Range story is the day I set up one early Saturday morning and saw a friend three tables away. In walks this "macho man" with his long suffering wife in trail.
They took the two tables between us. This guy is literally screaming at her to do this and that and berating her terribly for each percieved infraction of his explicit instructions.
Mr Man pulls out an M1 Carbine and an AR15 and sets one on each table. His wife starts off with the Carbine and Mr. Big Shot the AR. A smile crossed my face when I realized that me and my buddy three tables down were shooting the same calibers. I leaned way back in my chair and looked over at him. He was looking back at me with a Cheshire cat smile. He was thinking the same thing. He had a scoped and bipoded Kimber .22 Bolt gun and I had a Scoped Galil in .308 on a bipod. Since she had the Carbine it was my turn first. They were shooting at 25 yards so it was child's play.
The poor wife was missing the paper altogether but when the line was called she had an enviable, tight group, almost all in the "X" ring, of .30 caliber holes. She squealed with delight while hubby practically burst an artery.
After replacing their targets, (she wanted to keep hers), he furiously swapped guns with her, as the Carbine was certainly more accurate. It was my friend's turn on center stage. At the end of the shooting string, she had an even tighter group, center "X", of .22 caliber holes, (she was on the bench right next to my friend).
Mr. Macho nearly hit the ceiling. They packed up immediately and left. My friend and I broke up laughing as soon as they were out of earshot, although it was sobering to think later that we had probably earned her a beating that night.
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