And today I've resolved to get the boy out of his box. And myself as well, but as I'm long past my formative years it's not so important.
We go to the "Shooting Edge" and sign up to fire a few (50 each) rounds off from some pistols, we choose the SIG 9MM handgun for this.
He's way out of his box.
While we wait for the lanes to open up we peruse the shop and surreptitiously size up the clients, the usual suspects, men in Camo hats and vests, gansta's, punks....
In hushed tones I debrief the boy as to shooting lane etiquette. I'm no pro but I've been before, a long time ago...."No shouting 'DIE MUTHA-FUCKA'S DIE YOU BASTARDS and no.....". Sometimes I think I'm just reminding myself.
After a half an hour we get our primer on how to load the magazine, handle the weapon, earmuffs and goggles and we're set to go.
50 rounds go quick. The boy, he does OK, I don't do so good, all my shots hit the target but most of them are low, the "Ranger" explains that I'm reacting to the recoil of the gun before I pull the trigger. Makes sense, but curious...
When we're done I sweep up a handful of shells and the used targets as souvenirs, the boy's trying to play it cool and leave aside his target but I won't have it...."Paste a picture of your least favorite teacher to it and leave it around the school where someone can find it...." I tell him.
What's up with kids nowadays that you have to do all of their thinking for them?
***
After which we head down to the Market Collective in Kensington. From one extreme to the other. And I note that to be truly hip and fashionable I should really start growing in some facial hair. It kills an hour, there's lots to see and buy, but I'm not really too materialistic at the moment...
***
After which I'm starving and so we go across the street to Sam's super Shwarma. Sam's super friendly, "Hi My Friends" he says, as if we're in there every week, and he makes us up our donairs and small talks, it's a little as if we've walked into some stranger's living room and interrupted his coffee and instead of telling us to F*** OFF he's making us up meals and catching up on the story of our lives....Makes me uncomfortable, frankly, and the boy as well.
***
Then to the Plaza Theatre in Kensington, just to see what's playing. And as luck would have it there's a movie - 2012: The Time for Change - it's a lot of rubbish, but we don't know until we've seen it. But it's out of the box Sunday, and really, I think we have it kind of covered for the day...