The first handgun I ever shot was a .380 Walther PPK. The story is pretty cool.
Ever since I was very young (grammar school), I had a strong attraction to firearms. Growing up in NJ, this interest frequently garnered suspicion (since NJ residents have been brainwashed to think guns are only for police and the bad guys). Well, my dad would bring me to the local gun range just to watch people shoot their handguns. I was pie-eyed and in heaven. It was all just so cool. One visit, I must have been only 10 years old or so, one of the gunsmiths affiliated with the range was shooting a Walther PPK in .380. He saw that I was interested, and he asked my dad if it'd be okay to let me shoot it. I couldn't believe it. I grasped the little Walther with both hands, aimed, and shot two rounds slowly. Then I decided to let off a triple-tap. Then, fired the last round. The man let me keep the target, where I had two hits on target out of the six.
The story was, the Walther belonged to an LEO and carried as a BUG. It was being repaired by the gunsmith, who was there to test fire it. My guess is, the gunsmith figured that if the Walther doesn't malfunction with this little kid shooting it, it's fixed.