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One of Chuckro's friends from high school is a big laser tag fan. So when he invited us to come play laser tag in a tournament he was organizing, we thought "Sure!"
I figured that we were talking ten or fifteen friends from the area. It wasn't until we got half an hour down the road that I started getting an inkling. He was ranting about the Pittsburgh people refusing to come, not because they didn't have enough people to play, but because they couldn't put together their perfect team and so might lose.
Umm...Pittsburgh? Connecticut? Not playing because there's a chance you might lose? How many people are coming to this thing? How crazy are they? You realize most of us have played laser tag, like, once, right?
"Oh, 45 people said they were going to come, but then they all started backing out. We'll be lucky to get 25. Yeah, I know, they're being assholes, but these guys play four or five times a week."
Oh. Shit.
Well, as can easily be predicted from the above conversation, we got totally creamed. Which I didn't particularly mind. The full hour of rules lawyering I did mind, and I felt similarly about the arguing and the whining during the tournament. Wow. These guys seriously need lives. They were taking it waaaaay too seriously. And some of them were kind of scary - apparently if you have enough practice, you can bounce your way across an arena in, like, five seconds, all while shaking your head around like a crazy person so no one can get a bead on your headset. Sheesh. I tried chicken-dancing - I was so dizzy I thought I'd fall over.
For the most part, we had a pretty good time. Marc, however, had some issues. You see, you tell who's who by whether their headset lights are green or red. But there was something no one quite put together until after the first game when Marc asked us how on earth we were telling who was on which team.
Marc is red/green colorblind.
Oops.
Anyway, good evening, but I don't think I want to play against those guys again. The best game of the evening was the two bad teams against each other. That involved less ass kicking and more actual playing.
But yeah. Those guys need to have a little more to do with their lives that is actually important.
I figured that we were talking ten or fifteen friends from the area. It wasn't until we got half an hour down the road that I started getting an inkling. He was ranting about the Pittsburgh people refusing to come, not because they didn't have enough people to play, but because they couldn't put together their perfect team and so might lose.
Umm...Pittsburgh? Connecticut? Not playing because there's a chance you might lose? How many people are coming to this thing? How crazy are they? You realize most of us have played laser tag, like, once, right?
"Oh, 45 people said they were going to come, but then they all started backing out. We'll be lucky to get 25. Yeah, I know, they're being assholes, but these guys play four or five times a week."
Oh. Shit.
Well, as can easily be predicted from the above conversation, we got totally creamed. Which I didn't particularly mind. The full hour of rules lawyering I did mind, and I felt similarly about the arguing and the whining during the tournament. Wow. These guys seriously need lives. They were taking it waaaaay too seriously. And some of them were kind of scary - apparently if you have enough practice, you can bounce your way across an arena in, like, five seconds, all while shaking your head around like a crazy person so no one can get a bead on your headset. Sheesh. I tried chicken-dancing - I was so dizzy I thought I'd fall over.
For the most part, we had a pretty good time. Marc, however, had some issues. You see, you tell who's who by whether their headset lights are green or red. But there was something no one quite put together until after the first game when Marc asked us how on earth we were telling who was on which team.
Marc is red/green colorblind.
Oops.
Anyway, good evening, but I don't think I want to play against those guys again. The best game of the evening was the two bad teams against each other. That involved less ass kicking and more actual playing.
But yeah. Those guys need to have a little more to do with their lives that is actually important.
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Date: 2006-03-06 12:36 am (UTC)From:Poor Marc!
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Date: 2006-03-06 03:08 pm (UTC)From:no subject
Date: 2006-03-06 03:20 pm (UTC)From: