We used to play paintball in that old Packard plant. I had a few good times playing there, but the place wasn't safe by any stretch of the imagination and an elite cadre of players were blatant wipers (cheaters).
One pinhead brought his girl friend along with him. She shows up dressed in skin tight blue jeans, make up, all that and a bottle of champagne - and promptly gets shot in the left bongo at close range.
So the stupid referee gets everyone together at the beginning of the next game and wants to know who shot her.
"You're not going to get in trouble or anything, just tell me who shot her!"
Nobody so much as moved a muscle. Given where she got hit, I'm thinking friendly fire is more likely than anything. Playing in those halls, the enemy was always in front of you, and the target is going to be irresistible. If the stupid ref really wanted to know who shot her, he should have offered a reward. $50 for whoever turns in the shooter! Most, probably all of those guys would have turned someone in for $10. Anyway...
One time, late in the year and late in the day, we were playing capture the flag. A bunch of us were holding the doorway against the enemy, and we were stalemated. Then I ran out of paint. CO2, but no paint. I fire a few blanks, then I get an idea. We got nothing to lose, so -
"Look! They're breaking on the left - hit the left side hard!"
I run out into the room, shooting blanks. The 'team - ha ha' follows me, throwing paint.
"Keep going! Hit 'em! We got 'em on the run!!"
And we did. We captured the flag and hung it, and that was that. A couple guys congratulated me on leading the charge.
Big Mike and I were driving back to T-Town, and I broke out the Irish coffee I'd made up to ward off the cold. That coffee really hit the spot. We split two cups on the way home and felt better about the whole day.
No one plays paintball there anymore. The place still has electricity and water, so the Detroit homeless build one family shacks inside and live there. It still isn't safe, but it's better than a Detroit winter spent outside.
We should all be paying no more than 1% tax.
ReplyDeleteWow, that was a big paycheck!
ReplyDeleteWe used to play paintball in that old Packard plant. I had a few good times playing there, but the place wasn't safe by any stretch of the imagination and an elite cadre of players were blatant wipers (cheaters).
ReplyDeleteOne pinhead brought his girl friend along with him. She shows up dressed in skin tight blue jeans, make up, all that and a bottle of champagne - and promptly gets shot in the left bongo at close range.
So the stupid referee gets everyone together at the beginning of the next game and wants to know who shot her.
"You're not going to get in trouble or anything, just tell me who shot her!"
Nobody so much as moved a muscle. Given where she got hit, I'm thinking friendly fire is more likely than anything. Playing in those halls, the enemy was always in front of you, and the target is going to be irresistible. If the stupid ref really wanted to know who shot her, he should have offered a reward. $50 for whoever turns in the shooter! Most, probably all of those guys would have turned someone in for $10. Anyway...
One time, late in the year and late in the day, we were playing capture the flag. A bunch of us were holding the doorway against the enemy, and we were stalemated. Then I ran out of paint. CO2, but no paint. I fire a few blanks, then I get an idea. We got nothing to lose, so -
"Look! They're breaking on the left - hit the left side hard!"
I run out into the room, shooting blanks. The 'team - ha ha' follows me, throwing paint.
"Keep going! Hit 'em! We got 'em on the run!!"
And we did. We captured the flag and hung it, and that was that. A couple guys congratulated me on leading the charge.
Big Mike and I were driving back to T-Town, and I broke out the Irish coffee I'd made up to ward off the cold. That coffee really hit the spot. We split two cups on the way home and felt better about the whole day.
No one plays paintball there anymore. The place still has electricity and water, so the Detroit homeless build one family shacks inside and live there. It still isn't safe, but it's better than a Detroit winter spent outside.