Human Target Practice (AKA My First Paintball Adventure)

OK, so I fared a lot better than this guy after my first paintball experience in - no head shots of which to speak (although others were not so fortunate). Of course, that doesn't mean there wasn't significant pain to be had. For the day, I counted one arm shot, a chest shot, two leg wounds, and a glancing nut shot. The latter was the worst because I was helpless to defend myself, as I was trying to crawl up a hill and gradually sliding backwards because balls were flying at me from all directions. So, one might ask, what course of action did I choose at this crucial juncture? Naturally, I started shooting at the one human I could find...who just happened to be the unarmed referee - I think I counted three direct hits at close range...poor guy. So anyways, I'm laying facing the wrong direction up a hill, and someone on the opposing happened to have flanked around and was firing from behind me at the bottom of the hill. When that first shot hits a sensitive area, you'd be surprised how quickly you'll yell "OK! OK! I'm out!!!!!" Thankfully, I was wearing jeans that were somewhat thick, but more importantly had a generous gap between the fabric and my vitals; thus, when the paintball hit, it had to push the fabric a ways before making contact with my body. The end result was similar to a pinch. Still, even a pinch - when strategically placed - can get your attention in a hurry.

Thankfully, I got progressively better as the day progressed, even taking out a few people at close range and using physical cover well. Only once did I mistakenly turn a teammate into a Rembrandt - reminiscent of my many nights of Stevofest N64 Bond action. The funniest episode involved me talking to the enemy when we found ourselves right next to each other with only a wooden door feature separating us. I asked him how we proceed, and he said I could declare myself out or get blasted by his semi-automatic at close range. Common sense went out the window here and my bravado got the best of me. I stalled for more time, and went madly sprinting away at full speed. Remarkably, I'd have safely escaped had it not been for his teammate waiting to blast me on the dirt path as I streaked past - this blast to my right calf tied for the "Welt-o-the-Day" award (the other was delivered to my leg courtesy of a highly trained National Guardsman who'd spent time in Iraq).

I nevertheless had a blast despite wearing two layers in the 90+ degree Chillicothe heat, and thank the Steak 'n Shake friends who implored me for two weeks to join them. Thanks also to The WomanTM,who was surprisingly receptive to the concept of my being used for human target practice. For a total cost of $40 (including gas and postgame Subway), it may be awhile before I return. If I do, though, it will probably be with my own gun and helmet (so's I can save $15). Then again, after watching Army Dude #1 take a straight shot to the neck, I may hold off awhile before going back.

Also amusing: the two females in our group of four getting attacked by a horde of bees while taking cover in the forest and Milkshake Rambo (real name Steak 'n Shake Charlie) twice taking down two National Guardsmen all by himself.