I'm in the market for a laser pointer.
One of these things...
...that has driven everyone from George Costanza to preachers to pets to Monk...
And now add me to that list.
Because the laser pointers have made a comeback here on campus with the 12-year-old boy crowd. Wretched boys with their wretched laser pointers drive me nuts every. single. day.
To be fair, they haven't shot me directly (Jason's got my back), but they've hit tons of others--including several library patrons, and I walk around in fear that I've got green dots all over me.
So I think the only way to protect myself is to be ready to hit 'em back.
Anyway, this would all be old news, but I got a Facebook invitation this week to one of those laser-and-light shows at the Fort Worth Botanic Garden.
I didn't exactly read the information closely...just saw "laser" and, for some reason, thought "tag." So I wrote on our main event calendar at home "laser tag" for Saturday night.
He finally asked me about it yesterday, and I was like, "Oh, yeah, a bunch of people are apparently getting together to play laser tag at the Botanic Garden. Sounds fun."
His response: silence.
Then, "Laser tag...like hiding behind the flowers and running through the plants. Are you sure?"
After re-checking the event...no. apparently i'm not sure.
Instead of addressing that oversight, Jason chose to ask, "You spend every lunch hour trying to avoid those boys with their laser pointers. Why would you voluntarily go and get shot again and again with giant laser pointers?"