Beam Me Up

As a young professional it is remarkably easy to fall into a weekly routine and succumb to the monotony of the greater American workforce. For a young professional, this means going to work Monday through Friday, keeping up appearances by attending the obligatory happy hours, and throwing back at the same favorite bars on the weekend, where everyone thankfully doesn’t know your name. Fortunately, my Mer-friend Megha ensures that we never fall subject to the constraints of adult life.

Megha took the initiative to plan a group outing to UltraZone, where for $14.95 ($10 with a groupon) we could essentially play endless Laser Tag. I decided to continue my youthful guise and participate. I knew I had made an abhorrent decision as soon as we stepped foot in UltraZone. It was difficult to push through the throngs of Ultra-hyper metal mouths, and the Zone was soaked with the foul stench of puberty. After getting our passes, we were set to battle for bragging rights.

The last time I played Laser Tag I could count my age with my two hands. So to ensure that I was appropriately briefed on the latest laser techniques, and more importantly, understood the rules of engagement, we sat through the requisite instructional video. Three teams, Red, Green, and Blue, would compete in the arena, with only one being victorious. Since Megha had created two teams in advance, we now had the added complexity of fending off a third team of strangers. I’ve chronicled the epic journey through the trilogy of games.

Game 1, The Warm Up: We proceeded to the vesting room. The third team, comprised solely of teenage girls, flocks to the Blue vests. So we divide into our respective Green and Red teams. I spend the first few minutes in the arena getting my bearings, finding myself incessantly under fire. It doesn’t take us long to realize that the entire Blue team ascended the ramp and has assembled a full out poaching fortress, gunning out teams down while protecting themselves behind their altitudinal shield. With around 1 minute to spare, the strategy shifted and I led the Joint Forces up the ramp, reminiscent of the Battle of Bunker Hill (except for unlike the Brits, we failed to secure the high ground by the time the game ended.) The final score wasn’t even close. We got schooled by a bunch of school girls.

Game 2, Domination: With bitter tongues and a desire to win back some of (alright, all of) the pride we sacrificed in Game 1, we decided on an important course of action developed from the lessons learned in Game 1. We would unite. Two teams of us versus one team of them would surely secure a definitive victory. Having forged this alliance, we proceeded to the arena experienced veterans, and emerged as champions. Nothing like beating an outnumbered pack of puberty to boost our egos.

Game 3, ADHD: I apparently still have a short attention span, and two games was enough for my liking. So instead of participating in the third game, I wandered aimlessly through the arena looking for hidden crevices and secret passage ways (hopefully finding a connecting chamber to Narnia to rendezvous with my dear friend Ed.