Laser tag!

I played Laser Tag for the first time last weekend and no, I am not seven years old.  It was rather entertaining.  The place was clearly set up for kids, as the foul smell of cheap pizza hit me like a ton of bricks upon entering.  The first game was a six person free for all.  We were not to run or crouch, but rules are for the weak.  I ended winning and was drenched with sweat.  The fundamental flaw with this game became strikingly apparent, though.  You sneak up on someone, shoot them down, then they stare at you for four seconds until getting rebooted and murdering you (virtually).

Game two had about 34 participants, 24 of whom were about eight or younger.  We ran a nice sweeping operation to take a base, then found an eagle’s nest, where I laid waste to the young and feeble blue team.  My perch was shattered though, when a six year boy flanked me and shot me down.  The little cheater followed me around like a buzzard shooting me in the back for about four minutes until I yelled at him for cheating (rules are rules…OK, I’m a sore loser with a bad temper).  Some other kid started crying, clearly shell shocked at my group of assassins’ handiwork.  I racked up 90 kills (tags) to 50 deaths, most at the hands of the poorly raised ruffian I mentioned earlier.  I finished third, which was nice.  There is something sickly theraputic about shooting down rugrats, after being powerless to stop their misdeeds my whole life.  I remember a kid at Revco pulling things off shelves when I was 16, as his sloppy mother did nothing but curse at him and watch me pick up after him.  That kid is probably in jail now.  I also had to clean up puke after another one unloaded his chicken nuggets in aisle nine.  That’s not annoying when you make $4.35/hour.  Well, hooligans, this day was mine.  Now go eat your birthday cake and greasy, tasteless pizza while I dine upon the spoils of victory.