Bachelor Party Paintball

Next month, I am getting married to my wonderful fiancée Loretta. We were good friends for a long time before dating for the past four years. I truly consider her my life partner, and we support each other in every aspect of our lives. We even created a blog together, called Conscious Living for You, to promote healthier lifestyles using our unique areas of expertise.

To celebrate our transition into an official married relationship, we had our bachelor & bachelorette parties on the same day this past weekend. I am 40 years old now, and didn't want to go the "traditional" route of strippers & getting wasted. I told my brothers I wanted a day of playing paintball with my friends & a chill night out.

So, we went to a local paintball place and played for 5 hours, then went to a tiki bar later in the evening and closed the place down after 7-8 hrs. They had horseshoe pits, pool tables, & it was open-air so we got to safely observe the lightning storms going on around us for a little bit as they passed through. A lot of my friends & family came out, and we all had an awesome time. It's humbling to know that I have so many great people in my life that are there to support me. It was a great day, and by the time we got back to my brother's house, I passed out immediately on his couch. Luckily I controlled my alcohol intake, so I didn't feel like garbage the next day.

Here's a pic of the 10 guys that came out for paintball (that's me in the middle), and there were twice as many at the tiki bar.

 

At the end of paintball, I succumbed to peer pressure & "ran the gauntlet". All the guys lined up, & I had to run past them while they blasted me. I tried to shoot back at first, but the searing pain of being hit by all those paintballs at one time made me go into protective mode & I just ran the hell out of there as fast as I could. After I stopped running, I reflexively yelled out every expletive known to man & promptly cursed out all the guys.

I had welts all over me and by the next morning there were bruises covering the half of my body that was facing the firing squad. I saw it as a rite of passage- enduring pain & suffering to spur a transition into a new phase of existence. However, I would definitely NOT recommend any one else taking part in this insane activity. Loretta was not happy about my battle wounds, and when I sent her the pic, she texted back simply, "Those mother fuckers".