My Boyfriend, The Hunter

Apparently this is deer season. Or it’s deer season in some states but not others. Or maybe it just ended. Since I’m not really inclined to shoot things, my knowledge of the hunting calendar is lacking. But recently, in one of those relationship moments where you look at your bedmate and think, “How the bloody hell did I not know that about you?” I learned that eCrush owns guns. Plural. Also, as part of his quest to out-Republican the Republicans (and maybe partially to prove his manliness despite his love of madras), he hunts.

My knowledge of eCrush’s second-amendment-loving, Bambi-killing nature came about rather abruptly. It was the holidays, he went to visit family, and I thought that meant carb-overloading, consumption of box wine, and a turkey coma. You know, like it does for most Americans. My happy illusion ended when I called him to check in.

eCrush: Can’t talk now. There is a doe in my sight line.

Me: WHAT?

eCrush: I am engaging in deer population control. This is a good thing.

Me: You are hunting? Since when do you hunt? AND you brought your iPhone into that hut tree house thing?

eCrush: It’s called a tree stand.

Me: The point is, tree stand, orange camo, IPHONE. Which one of these things doesn’t belong? Besides the obvious: YOU!

I spent hours debating my willingness to date somebody who hunts. And owns a Scent Control Parka. But ultimately, I decided I shouldn’t end a good thing when hunting ranks darn low on my General Problems With Republicans List. Also, eCrush and I are both from central Ohio. Lots of people hunt there. The appreciation of the sport is so widespread it crosses socio-economic lines and conquers political affiliation. I know women who hunt and I’ve got friends who own land specifically so they can go shoot things on it. They also have ginoramus smoker contraptions to better dry out their deer meat. And in law school, half the guys went missing each year during bow season. Those that remained were either gay or from out of state. Hell, even my dad has a BB pistol to better battle the squirrels. All that being said, I’ve become pretty acclimated to the Scary Killer Sportsman concept. I just don’t like it.

Despite my repeated aversion to stalking innocent animals and then shooting them dead, eCrush is determined that I try it. He is adamant that I’d make a great huntress. Like the DC version of Artemis. I contend that nothing about me says I Love To Spend Time In Nature, let alone Bambi Sniper. Also, with my long and sordid history of klutz behavior, I’m sure I’d pull a Cheney and then we’d be the lead story on Fox News. I can just see Shepard Smith all, “…and in a shocking story of love gone horribly wrong, a liberal DC Attorney shot her prominent Republican boyfriend in the ass yesterday. Her camp claims it was simply a hunting accident, but our anonymous White House sources suggest otherwise. For more, let’s go to…” Yeah. Nightmare.

But eCrush won’t give up. Initially, he tried a Let’s Hunt Together bribe: new shoes. Clearly, eCrush knows his target audience and he almost had me. But he fouled it up when he mentioned the shoes weren’t from Nordstroms. Instead, he intended to give me shoes designed specifically for trail hiking and by extension, suitable for prolonged tree stand time. I asked if the fancy hunting sneakers would also help me run away from rampaging bears, and eCrush didn’t think that was funny, so, end of conversation. Since then, eCrush has wisely stopped his attempts at bribery. Even he admits Midwestern Sexy does not look good in camouflage. Consequently, he’s not tried to bribe me with survivalist-wanna-be-type pants. But last night, he broke out a new tactic: proof of ability.

eCrush (batting his puppy dog eyes): Why won’t you come (insert pheasant/quail/other fowl – I know it’s a bird. Aside from that, I don’t pay attention) hunting?

Me (all please, not this again): Moral issues. We’ve been over this.

eCrush (convinced he’s got a trump card): Well, if I can prove you’d be good at it, will you agree to go?

Me (doing a killer Skeptical Nicholson impression): HA! This, I am interested in.

That’s were eCrush proudly brandished an old school Nintendo.

eCrush (all jubilant): DUCK HUNT!

Two hours later, eCrush admitted defeat. Because if my Nintendo aim was that bad? He didn’t actually want me to come along for the real life version. Score one for me. And the general wildlife population of Maryland.

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13 Responses to “My Boyfriend, The Hunter”

  1. SingleGirl Says:

    Oooh, I have a secret to reveal to the world. I am so very liberal and so very proud of it. BUT. I have my NRA Range card. I don’t own a gun, and it’s not the same as hunting, but going to the shooting range is freaking fun like you’ve never had. And, I actually shoot better in my heels. So, I’m siding with ecrush on this one. Try it once.

    Guns in the context of a shooting range, I can do. Guns pointed at small animals, not so much. And I love that you shoot in heels. Nominating you for Hero Of The Day.

  2. Gilahi Says:

    Yeesh. One bloody animal being field-dressed in your presence would be all it would take to break of you any latent desire to hunt that you may have.

    Oh. My. God. Hadn’t even considered that.

  3. restaurantrefugee Says:

    It will not shock you that I am rather left leaning. However, I do enjoy going to the shooting range. Hunting, on the other hand, is problematic for me unless you eat what you kill, and I have philosophical problems with all of the technological advantages. If hunting is about sport, then why is there an entire cottage industry dedicated to making it easier?

    You know what I’m getting you for Christmas, RR? That picture of Palin holding the gun while sportin’ a bikini. But with my head.

  4. Laina Says:

    Everyone I know eats what they kill. I have absolutely no problem with that. Talk about technological advantages–at least a deer is free range in the woods, whereas a cow is fenced in, then loaded on a truck, and shot at close range. Seriously people, are you going to stop eating beef because of the poor defenseless cows?

    I totally understand not wanting to hunt yourself, I don’t have any interest either. But I don’t mind people who do, and frankly, deer is freaking tasty. And very, very lean. 😉

    And you know what a hippy liberal I am.

    Do not give me reason to become a vegetarian. Because it could happen.

  5. vvk Says:

    Two words: Laser Tag!

    That way, you get to shoot a living things, and still have fun!
    http://maps.google.com/maps?q=laser+tag+washington+dc

    I love laser tag!

  6. laura Says:

    You obviously don’t know how to play Duck Hunt. You place the tip of the gun ON the tv screen, and it is then impossible to miss the duck. My brother and I slaughtered many a digital duck this way.
    As for IRL hunting. No way. I’ve seen a deer hanging in my neighbors garage. That was enough for me. I have, however, shot a bb gun, but not at a live animal. Just at winter camp with my Dad as a kid. Amy has too. I’ll have to tell you some stories about those camping trips some day.

    I think cheating at Duck Hunt is my only hope. And the Indian Princesses let you shoot things? Wow. Girl Scouts sucked comparatively.

  7. suz Says:

    Ewww…hunting!

    You could get some good stuff out of this at least – road trip to Cabella’s – they have great fudge. Also, I hear venison is much healthier than beef. And I ate it once during Pioneer Week in elementery school and thought it was damn tasty.

    But you didn’t hear that from me.

    I don’t know what venison you are referring to my little vegan friend.

  8. sofarleft Says:

    I’m on the same side as vvk but instead of laser tag, you should try paintball:

    Take eCrush with you, dressed as a deer (sans weapon, of course. Tell him this is more like the “real” hunting experience, and you’re trying to see it from his point of view). Let him wander around the area without knowing your location, then you pop out and annihilate him with pink paint pellets! That way you can perfect your shot, the animal population remains intact, and we all get to hear about the aftermath. AND YOU GET TO SHOOT HIM…LEGALLY!!!

    If you need an eCrush-hunting partner (again, looking for the authenticity of the “hunting party” experience), I’ll clear my schedule…

    I wonder what eCrush is doing next weekend?

  9. Jennifer Says:

    Absolutely LOVE sofarleft’s suggestion.

    Blogging of this option is mandatory.

    There would have to be pictures, too.

  10. Melissa Says:

    I am also a liberal attorney, and my husband is one of those poor, rural deomcrats. We must own 10 guns. Elk guns deer guns, BB guns, hand guns. We even have one hand gun that can kill an Elk. I like shooting them just fine, but I’m not hunting. I did it once and I was miserable. It was cold. We had to get up really early. There was lots of walking. It. Was. AWFUL. Never, never, never again. Moral issues or not. Don’t give in. Just take the meat in the nice paper from the butcher and make a stew. Much better.

    Get up early? He knows better. Well, unless there’s a sale at Kate Spade.

  11. Malnurtured Snay Says:

    I object to the notion of “out Republicaning Republicans.” I’m a registered independent, and since I’ve been able to vote I’ve done so for Clinton, Gore, Kerry, and Obama. I’m very much a moderate leaning left, but I own guns. Plural. I’ve also never hunted anything, and have no desire to. Also, I have no idea where there’s a shooting range accessibly by public transportation in DC, nor would it really matter, since my handguns are in storage in MD.

    Oh! I would love to see somebody try to bring hunting riffles on the Metro!

  12. Zandria Says:

    Duck Hunt? You still have a copy of that game? Wow!

    You misfired on purpose, didn’t you? Just to shut him up? 🙂

    He apparently found it and the system at some used game place. I was awed by his dedication.

  13. pithycomments Says:

    Lawd, this gave me flashbacks to my last visit to Dad’s side of the family where I got a tour of the new Hunt Camp, complete w/ Lazy Boy recliners surrounding the outdoor firepit made out of an oil barrel, enough bare light bulbs to light a runway for a 747 and the addition they were most proud of: a brand new outhouse with an extra-large seating/let yer buttcheeks hang area.

    And they wonder why I haven’t visited in over 10 yrs….

    I sense wisdom in that decision.

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