Good stuff this weekend. My sister and nephew visited us Thursday-Saturday.
Friday night we went to the local Craig’s Cruisers, a family-fun center with video games, mini-golf, and go-karts. It was all fun ‘n games till my sister told me the score. I was in SECOND place… the competitive nature in me took over and it was all about the win after that. Alas, there would be no victory dance in Paul-land.
Ruth scored 4 or more hole-in-ones that night… and they were the most ridiculous hole-in-ones I’ve ever seen. One of them, the ball passed over the cup 3 times before turning back toward the cup, missing it, and doing a hairpin turn before sinking in… this is stuff you’d expect to see in an old 50’s comedy like Abbott and Costello or Three Stooges.
Another shot she took, she hit it way too hard and it bounced off a wall, defying all laws of geometry. She hit the wall parallel, but the ball bounced as though she’d hit it perpendicular: the ball ended up bouncing backwards… directly toward the cup. Hole in one.
I stood there shocked, mouth-open, as she danced, skipped, and squeaked over to pick her ball out of the hole.
In the end, she ended up beating me 41 to 42. …one lousy stroke. I was glad she won. She never wins.
…off we went to the go-karts.
My nephew ran past me toward the go-karts and yelled as he was 10 feet in front of me, “RACE YA TO THE GO-KARTS!” As usual, I was in a race with my nephew and lost before I even knew I was racing.
I haven’t done much go-kart racing, but after doing a few laps in those little cars, I realized why people like doing that. I applied all racing knowledge and physics that I’d learned from playing racing video games and found that I’m actually pretty good behind the wheel. There was one other guy there who was a pretty good racer too.
The rule at the course is, “no bumping or reckless driving.” I tried very hard not to bump other cars, but quickly realized that they had no intention of showing me the same courtesy; an irritating thing to deal with until I realized I could use it to my advantage and ended up passing people I was previously afraid of bumping, knowing that I was not in the wrong if THEY bumped ME.
Friday rolled into Saturday which was a pretty relaxing day. The weather was beautiful and Natalie and I went to Barnes and Noble and picked up some new books.
She got a mystery novel, and I got the full complete collection of one of the newer Spiderman comic series in hard-back. I’d seen it before on the shelves but didn’t like the price tag. Saturday, it was 30% off. This is the picture of a happy guy.
Sunday afternoon, we went to our friends’ house for lunch. My buddy, Fred (Pootie), noticed that some kids were playing airsoft in the back-woods. Natalie was tired, so I took her back to our place, grabbed my gear and went back out to their house.
Fred stepped out of the car wearing my shoulder-holster and his airsoft full-face mask. The kids took one look at him and said, “Dude! We’re not playing with you! You look like a professional.”
…then they saw me.
High boots with camo pants, a drop-leg holster boasting a M93r full-auto gas pistol. “No fear” was all over me as I stepped toward them wearing nothing up top but a thin black t-shirt, as if to say, “your meager skills and weapons are of no concern to me. I will break you.” (Usually, you wear heavy clothes when playing airsoft so as not to take too many painful hits that will leave welts…)
As if that wasn’t enough, I popped the trunk and pulled out of my gun case my full-metal MP5, complete with tac light and laser-sight (both of which are completely useless in the middle of the afternoon, but dramatically increase the intimidation-factor).
As it turned out in the first few skirmishes, I met their expectations. I “killed” all 4 of them within the first one or two minutes of each skirmish.
At that point, I decided it was time to come down to their level, so I swapped out for some weaker guns, and we played some elimination and bomb-disposal rounds until one of them cracked the slide on my Tokyo Marui pistol. They needed to be punished. So I pulled my MP5 back out and punished them.
In the end, everyone had a great time. I was taken out by a well-laid sneak attack by Fred, and again in the last skirmish by one of the guy’s little 8-year old brother.
He was a pudgey little guy with a bright yellow t-shirt, scared to death of getting shot… but he had guts. The others were lying in wait under cover. I figured the little guy would stay where he was, but he lept out and rushed me. I saw and heard him coming, but didn’t have the heart to shoot him from 3 or 4 feet away so I let him take his best shot while I blind-fired at the ground toward him.
I never felt it hit me, but he said he got me. So, with no questions asked, I called myself out.
He also took a hit. One of my shots, riccochet off the ground and hit him in the knee. I could see it hurt, and I felt terrible, but he was a tough kid and he laughed it off as he limped back to the safe-zone.
I’d keep my eye on that one. He’ll make a good ally someday.