My bachelor party is this Saturday, and I couldn’t be more excited. While we’re generally a tame bunch when it comes to this sort of thing, you’d be hard-pressed to a more fun bunch. We’ll spend the day playing paintball and dodgeball, enjoy a nice dinner and cocktails, and finish it off with a poker tournament. I’m due for a win.
At any rate, talking about bachelor party paintball (a tradition among us), got Ryan and I reminiscing about an infamous match played at Anthony’s bachelor party. When I play, I get fully geared up: full camo in battle dress, gloves, even a cup. No skin exposed, except for perhaps a small strip of neck between my collar and the mask. Practically an impossible spot to hit, especially the way I move.
Practically. Sure enough, a game or two in to it, I got blasted in the neck. A huge welt arose. I was pissed, but oh well. It couldn’t happen again right? Wrong. It happened again, in the very next game – hitting me with almost perfect symmetry.
I’m glad I’ve recalled that for you. Now that it’s out there, I can feel good about it: there’s no way it could happen again, right?