In my arms squirms a smiling three-month-old little girl who has no idea she was conceived in the midst of a civil war that has killed more than 70,000 people. She has no idea her mother escaped their home country with her four older siblings a mere month before she was born.
I had terrifying images of accidents on the range involving people tripping over themselves and misfiring, or rounds ricocheting off of rocks and spitting back towards the row of my peers.
Standing over the toilet bowl at 4 a.m. on a bus in Egypt.
So, you may wonder how the hell I am still the owner of the rare, platinum level V-card? Or more importantly, why?