Oregon Gun Club-Personal Narrative

Today was the day I would get my hunting license and finally be able to enjoy the one thing that both of my parents enjoyed too. It seemed like it took years and years to complete the online section of the class, but now it was time for the in person section. It seemed like forever before my dad and I made it to the Oregon Gun Club building.
I imagined exactly how the day would go, I would walk into the very nice well-kept room. Say my name, watch some videos, I’d take the test, get 100%, and be on my way to Wendy’s where I would eat chicken nuggets and french fries as a celebratory lunch with my dad, who would accompany me throughout the class. Or so I thought, but does anything ever turn out like you thought it would? No, It never does, that day went nothing like I planned. As I stepped out of the dirty blue truck onto the gravel, I could smell the trees in the fresh breeze around me. I looked at the building in front of me, Oregon Gun Club, the torn banner on the side of the roof read. I analyzed the building. Hidden behind thick layers of moss I could see light through the window. My dad and I followed the short path to what seemed to be the front door, in that short amount of
The steam from his drink coated his glasses, and behind the mug I could see a toothless smile and a dark shiny grey beard. He gestured for my dad and I to come in. I stepped my way up into the overcrowded room full of mustard yellow couches. Not only did the place looked run down, and about to fall apart but, the place smelled like the worst mixture of rotten foods you could imagine. My dad and I’s facial expressions to each other said it all about this place. Once we had found our way, we filled out some application forms. During the process, I stood beside my dad, searching to find another girl taking the class. I looked forever only to find that there were no other girls