Everything hurts. I feel old.

I went to my first real game last weekend. OP: Resurrection 2. Here's me when I woke up this afternoon: "Uggh my ass" *rolls out of bed* "uggh my hips" *stands up* "uggh my legs" *stood up too suddenly* "uggh my head" *opens the door* "uggh my shoulders!" Most of that soreness was actually from the 6 hour drive there on Saturday and the 6 hour drive back on Sunday. I also have 3 good welts on my right arm. And that concludes the injury portion of this post.

On my way to the OP, I was planning on getting there early so I could play in the skirmish the day before and get a feel for the field. My car broke down on the freeway. I was one mile from the exit I needed to take to get to the field. I had driven 163 miles and broke down just 7 miles short. Luckily, I have a AAA type service through my insurance. I called my parents and they gave me the number to call. (I should probably save that number in my phone huh?) I'd never used it before, so I had a lot of "get out of sh*t free cards" saved up. So I call, give them all the relevant info, wait on hold, sing to myself, sit on the roof of my car, watch everyones' heads turn as they drive past, etc. Tow truck shows up about an hour after I broke down. Takes my car to some garage that even the tow truck driver hadn't heard of before, but at least it was close; being only 8 miles from the field.

Once there, the mechanic says he probably won't be able to get to it until Monday. I just leave it with him, pack up my gear, and pay the tow truck driver to take me to the field. I get there, start making some friends, meet some guys I'd seen on the AP forums, talk, have a good time. That evening I spent around a camp fire with a few older (30s-40s) guys, chattin' it up. I think I was the last person awake who was under 21. Everyone else was drinking. At about midnight, someone gets the bright idea that they should go for a beer run. His wife tells him he can't because he's been drinking. He suggests someone else (who had also had a couple drinks). That person suggests me (because I was the only one not drinking). His (intoxicated, but rather pretty) wife takes about 5 minutes to tell me to *please please please* not let anything happen to her car.

Going off on a tangent here, I think I've met my first milf. She may have been 20 or 30 something, but she looked really nice. I don't usually find mothers to be attractive. I'm a sick f*ck. Either way, I wasn't going to mess with somebody's wife. Especially while their kids were around. I'm not that kind of asshole. Seriously though, I don't want to be involved in any form of cheating. Not after the first time. That ended badly. Things like that always end badly for me. And always in July. F*ck. [/tangent]

So I drive this drunk dude to a convenience store at a gas station. Btw he has a gun. A real gun. On a belt. And it's loaded. Apparently Oregon is an open carry state. At least he had the sense not to fire it that night. And the sense to take it out of his serpa and leave it in the car when we went inside. They wouldn't let him buy alcohol because I was with him. We went to another gas station and I stayed in the car with his gun in the seat next to mine. That thing was seriously making me nervous as f*ck.

We get back and the party goes on. I have this really repetitive conversation about airsoft leadership with some other drunk guy. Screw this, I have to wake up in 5 hours. I go to my campsite (which is inside a barn). Everyone else had cars and tents in the groves. I had figured "nobody is coming with me. There will be enough room to sleep in my car. I don't need to bring a tent!" F****************************************************ck. So I sleep in a dirty, dusty barn next to a tractor. My sleeping bag is now covered in dusty dirt.

I'm done typing for now, I'll continue this story later. There's still a prelude that I skipped, game day, and the conclusion.

um well milf umm wow you have a barn to yourself lol were both sick but yeah oregon is open for carrying i use to live there

Sounds like a good time.

Sooooooo gameday. Three teams, three types of objectives. Sector control, locating IEDs along the road, and search-and-destroy. Every objective was marked with colored tape to indicate which team it was for. I mostly just rushed one sector the entire first half. We kept that sector for the entire game. I got three good clean hits on opposing players. All three happened inside the village. Most of the hits on me were just lobbing and spraying, but I took one or two good ones as well. My MTV was hot as balls. The first round started late thanks to an influx of players on game day. It wasn't until about 2:15 that we got lunch.

During lunch I decided to ditch the PC. It was way too friggin hot. My blouse under it was soaked with sweat. I just crammed mags and grenades into my trousers and rolled in a t-shirt with no vest. I took the blue tape off of my blouse's arm and stuck it on my helmet. (Which gave me the idea to make a helmet cover for my next OP out of duct tape to make it look more like the power helmets in Fallout.) I scarfed down my ration of pizza, had some of my own food, and rehydrated with some Gatorade. I carried a gallon of water to my new respawn.

Second half was all sector control due to the command net going down. I learned that my team (the survivors) had won the first round at 3 to 1 to 1. Our faction leader was still briefing us when the round started. The plan was just to rush into the village. We spawned farthest from it, but we had even terrain. The national guard had a hill to contend with. The infected had underbrush to negotiate. A couple guys from our team ran out ahead while the main force tried to keep up. One of our guys was first in the village. He single-handedly captured 4 sectors before anyone else arrived. We just sat on those 4 sectors the whole game. I think one of the other teams took a sector at some point, but it wasn't one of ours.

With about 20 minutes left in the game, I was guarding one of our sectors in the village. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice another sector marking pole. I focus in on it and notice that it doesn't have a colored marker on top of it. Two of our guys were just reentering the village from respawn. I grab them and say "Do you guys want to have some fun?" I point out the sector pole. They bound up and I try to cover them. They get within 5' of the pole when they both get taken down by a couple of campers in the treeline. I couldn't believe they were just waiting there in the trees and hadn't taken that sector. Just then I feel something. I got hit from around the corner of a building near the treeline. It was a noble effort.

I didn't get a single hit on anyone in the second round. 16 long walks to and from respawn that day for 3 clean hits. I didn't even use a single 40mm shell. I did try using one of my M67s though. Too bad I'm such a horrible throw. I need practice. The final score was something like 7 to 2 to 1. We smoked 'em. I was proud to be cannon fodder for such a coherent and effective team.

With the game over, I figured I should call the mechanic and see how much it was going to cost for him just to look at my car. Lo and behold I have a new voicemail. It's from the mechanic. Not only had he already fixed my car, but it was only going to cost me $78! I bummed a ride from this nice guy who had camped next to my barn. Luckily he had a GPS, because I had no recollection of where this shop was. He drove me there, I picked up my car, and we drove back. We each packed up our gear and parted ways. I was one of the last to leave besides the admins and organizer.

7 hour drive home including rest stops. The freeway can really take it out of you. Those white lines hypnotize you and put you to sleep. You need to stop every so often. And besides, I didn't want my car to overheat again! At one stop, I did some stretching and some karate. At another, I talked to myself to see how I would handle being mugged. When I got to the ferry, I had an hour wait for the last boat of the night. I must've dozed off. I hear *knock knock* on my window and just snap back awake. Start my car, start moving forward, get on the ferry, rest the eyes some more. I'll bet those traffic directors hate people who fall asleep. I made it home without incident. Had myself a nice bath, brushed my teeth, flopped down in my water bed, and just f***ing died for 12 hours (no exaggeration).

Prelude: On the ferry ride to the mainland, I was parked in the front row. I was watching as we came in to dock. I noticed we were way off course. Way farther to port than we should have been. I hear the ferry's horn blow. The Captain must have been pissed at someone. We couldn't have been more than 100 meters from dock when a power boat goes darting in front of us. WHAT A F***ING MORON! Ferries have rights over EVERYTHING in this sound. You just don't go between an elephant and where it's headed. Ferries have run over private boats before. They just don't have the manuverability to avoid them. It's on the smaller craft to avoid the ferry. You do NOT come between a ferry and the dock. When it's that f***ing close? That was just idiotic. I was cursing this person in my mind for about 30 seconds when (can you even believe it?) A second one goes shooting by in chase of the first one! Where is natural selection when you need it? This is why I hate most powerboaters. They have a boat, but don't know anything about maritime law. They don't know anything about common courtesy. Or common sense.

haha you remind me way too much of myself, at my first OP and still today!! what with the soreness, and ditching the vest due to heat!