Lest any of you think I was only an idiot as a child (which I am sure none of you thought for one second).  Here is a more recent story from my life. This happened this year, I was 28 at the time.

I had played paintball for the second time this year. Actually, the first time was also earlier this year.

The second time I played I was with a group of work friends, all men, as I work with all men. One of them had brought me a protective paintball vest.

I am fairly well endowed and was extremely uptight about being shot in the chest. I couldn’t relax during the original firefight, which we had as a team building exercise. (Nothing like shooting your boss and peers to build camaraderie).

During the entire time I played, in the stifling heat, I never once got hit in the chest. I wasn’t able to play for as long as the others could. I have heart issues and my cardio is pathetic right now.

But I didn’t want to go home not knowing how it felt to be hit in the protective vest. I actually wanted to get shot in the ass too as I am fairly well endowed there as well. But I didn’t know how to ask for that without sounding creepy or masochistic, so I let it go.

So, I asked my friend, R, if he would be willing to do me a favor. I wanted him to shoot me in the chest.

I walked out into the paintball field with about a dozen strangers gathered around to watch. I was completely unarmed with just my protective vest and face mask.

R faced off with me and stepped back the minimum shooting distance of 12 feet.

He swung his gun up and pointed it at me. I stood, faced off with him, looking down the barrel of that gun. He took his time to make sure his aim was right. He pulled the trigger.

And shot me point blank in the soft, tender, unprotected area of my inner bicep. It hurt and I shouted out “Motherfucker!” But I wanted to try again.

*All bruises depicted are actual bruises.

*All bruises depicted are actual bruises.

The crowd was loving this. Several people asked if they could take turns shooting me next.

He pointed his gun at me a second time. He took even longer, trying to aim properly. “Ready?!” He called out to me.


I looked down the barrel of that paintball gun again. I was afraid of the pain of him missing his target. But also excited at the prospect of being hit in the padding of my vest.

This time he hit me in the upper abdomen. Just below where the vest covered.

This one looks angry...

This one looks angry…

And that was my limit for being shot point blank with a paintball gun. I gave up on ever being hit in the vest. I couldn’t handle any more shots to my tender body parts. And I was already beginning to bruise.

At least I faced my fear of being hit with a paintball.


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