Trollop got her first 'hot-brass dance' at the range last Saturday. One of the spent casings bounced and landed in her shirt, settling in her bra area. Antics ensued.
It happens. To anyone.
She kept her clothes on. It's a myth that women rip all their clothes off when hot brass gets down there. So tamp down those filthy thoughts you preverted reprobates.
But more importantly, when the lizard brain took over and rational thought found something else to do, she (quickly) set her loaded handgun down on the shooting bench, pointing down range, and didn't end up waving it around with poor muzzle discipline, or dropping it. She was very proud that this was the instinct when the rubber met the road in an emergency situation... Er... when the brass hit the brassiere? Anyway, she has tiny red marks to show for it, and piece of mind that at least some of the safety procedures are sinking in and imprinting as well as the burns.
Firearm blog linked to some fashion tips, with relevence to this topic, over at Women Of Caliber.
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