Five things I learned at Cocklick's stag do.
1. Paintball is exhausting, and on occasion fairly painful. It would be ludicrous to attempt to compare it to real combat, but it's worth noting that even hiding behind a flimsy wooden pallet whilst hearing the unending thud of incoming fire and wiping the paint of near misses from your visor is discomforting enough for every loud noise you hear for the next two days to set off flashbacks. I have Post Paintball Stress Disorder. My fellows were flinching when I pointed my replica flintlock in their faces, for fear they would end up like Jamie (see below).
2. If you ever find yourself short of bright red paint, bear in mind that you can generate some by combining orange paint with the blood from a gushing head wound, as Jamie has discovered. On the other hand, Jamie also somehow managed to get shot in the testicles without noticing, so all things considered he probably didn't do too badly.
3. I can dress up as a pirate and wave around a plastic sword and pistol and the Durham locals will still take the piss out of how I speak.
4. Pause has now reached such a level of gaming genius that the only way to combat him is to try to help him and allow your own incompetence to drag him down.
5. I can no longer say that for all its flaws, Durham is not a place where you will encounter gun battles between vehicles.
3 comments:
Ah Post Paintball Stress Disorder. Keep playing and soon you will become a grizzled vet complete with 100 yard stare (it’s like a 1,000 yard stare but shorter as paintballs don’t fly that far). So no major injuries on your part? If so all is good.
Regarding (3), you were lucky that the only abuse thrown at you was verbal in nature, and I hereby suggest you walked down through the wrong end of Durham. Or rather, you walked down through the right end of Durham.
Regarding (1), I will confirm the largely random fear of being shot as you walk down the street that follows a day's paintballing, but cannot rule out that this isn't influenced by (3).
Regarding (4), we all know you're exaggerating, but later this week you will still be treated to our (my) L4D horror story that followed your departure at the weekend. Snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, indeed.
Good luck with the conferencing, man.
If the helicopter had got that leeetle bit closer it woulda been fine...
I was certainly jumpy in open spaces for the next couple of days, and, distressing as having a coke can thrown at us was, I don't think it was the sole cause; I just felt far too exposed and was very tempted to run for the nearest cover to cower.
Of course, for me this could have been the result of the aforesaid gushing head wound...
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