White shirts may look radiantly cool under black lights, but wearing one gives away all hope of camouflage in the unforgiving world of laser tag. I learned this lesson in middle school, and it still holds true today.
Tonight I was invited to cheap-date function which ended in an extreme game of laser tag at Nashville’s esteemed Laser Quest. This was the first time I’ve been to Laser Quest since my 7th grade birthday party. I can’t discredit the size of this large black-lit room, but back in the day I remember it being the most amazingly colossal laser war-zone I had ever laid eyes on.
It was a total rush to jolt around the room as the buzzes of laser fire scattered across the air. The mood was so intense that I forgot all about the recently devoured Satco which was slowly digesting in my belly. I know Mexican food and laser tag could be a nightmare combination, but in war there is certainly no time to think about your stomach. Twenty minutes had come and gone before I knew it. As we left the surreal world of Laser Quest, I was railed by that certain emotion children feel when it’s time to go home from a fun day at the playground. You know, that feeling you used to get when recess was over. Remember?
It’s been a while since I played laser tag, which definitely showed as I only took 12th out of 30+ people. I did, however, gain 100 bonus points for accuracy. Moral of the story: I am a hawk-eye sniper, so challengers beware.
