I have a big tendency to over-exaggerate everything, including the situation that I’m in. I want to be in the moment. I want to live PASSIONATELY. I want you to LIVE THAT TOO.
Sadly, that often results in people being injured.
Situation 1: Laser Tag
I was seventeen, and the baddest-ass nanny on the block. I had taken my two nanners (who the fuck calls them charges? That’s the dumbest thing ever) to Laser Tag one day. A superhottie was working, and he let the boys and I play two free games, on the condition that I would come back that evening, maybe with a friend, and we’d all go see a movie.
Here’s the part in the story where you’re wondering if I became a prostitute for Laser Tag.
So my friend and I go back that evening, and sure enough, he’s there.
“Why don’t we play a quick game before we go?” he asks, helping me strap into my GhostBusters-esque Proton Pack.
“Sure!” I was always witty.
So I really want to make a big impression, right? And what do guys like? Girls who game, right?
Then I was going to BE a badass that day. I was ducking around corners like Jason Fucking Bourne, diving behind boulders, shooting bitches–gangsta. And then I heard it…the footsteps…he was close by.
So I flat-back against a wall, pull my Duck Hunt pistol to my chest, and slide around the corner, guns blazing!
I pistol whipped that kid to fucking Mars.
It played out in slow motion in my head. I saw my gun as I whirled around the corner, far too lost in my badassery to notice him shooting RIGHT AT MY FACE FROM 6 INCHES AWAY. I saw his cheek bounce and wave as I rocked his world with lasers, baby.
There’s no dignified way to leave a situation in which you’ve accidentally pistol-whipped someone. We stood there awkwardly for about 3o seconds before the lights came on and I could truly see just how hard I had hit him.
Ever done a walk of shame from a Laser Tag Dome?