Desmond had a trip to Boston Paintball today. I decided to join last-minute. It was not a problem because, first of all, in Desmond, joining last-minute is practically always an option, and second, also a characteristic of Desmond, many who signed up for Paintball…didn’t actually appear.
It’s great getting reminded of the fact that there’s so many things in this world I terribly, horribly suck at and still enjoy. Anyway, let’s detail this trip chronologically.
We leave Desmond and instead of taking the Red Line as one would expect spice up the route there by taking a bus to the Green Line, specifically at Hynes Convention Center. We then transfer to one of the Green Line trains, and enjoy as the profoundly technologically optimized trains of the Green Line perform their impression of a live Dragonforce solo. It turns out that because Green Line trains are always that amazingly predictable, it stops at Government Center and we have to get off and wait for the next Green line train to bring us to Haymarket. From there, we make another transfer to a bus which takes us to Chelsea (or sketch-sketchyville). After more disorientation, we walk under a highway and past a neighborhood and into a shopping center and finally arrive at Boston Paintball.
Of course, because Paintball is dangerous (actually, if you didn’t wear a helmet, it is actually more than significantly dangerous). That means that we sign a waiver. Interestingly, this time, I was not the only one in the party who actually read the waiver. Also interestingly, we had someone who had to have a “guardian” sign the waiver for him because he wasn’t 18 yet, and further, it actually wasn’t me. After we certify that our corpses will not hold charges against Boston Paintball if we die there, we get our guns and helmets and take a tutorial on Paintball safety, given to us rapidfire by a person who could work for an infomercial company. I felt it was a really nicely done introduction, actually.
But anyway, eventually paintball began. There was one person in our party of nine with paintball experience, and he was on the other team the first game. Needless to say, we got crushed. Further games were more interesting. The floor, due to having been painted over thousands of times, was noticeably slippery, and somehow over the course of our six or so games it never occurred to me that sliding to get from one location to another is actually pretty efficient. Why do I always learn so slowly?
Here’s a list of places I got marked, in chronological order: left thigh, neck, visor, right thigh.
Between two of our games, we took a quick trip to a “Mandarin Buffet” for dinner. I took a liberal violation of veganity again. Might as well take a few before I return to strict veganity starting Quadve. As is usually the case when I go to a buffet, I abominably overeat. Fortunately, the walk back to the Paintball place provided ample opportunity for digestion. We finished our last few games, including a last one which was everyone above age twenty-one plus people who have previously accidentally shot a teammate plus everyone else, a game where I actually survived.
The way back was like the convoluted way there, minus one Green bus stagger and replacing one bus ride with a walk.