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All right kiddies gather round for a very old memory that has been bothering me for years. This is also an apology to whoever was the victim. My fingers are shaking and I'm trying to keep myself composed here.
Backstory: I was a strange but good kid. But there were times I would do something totally demonic.
Year 1993 Late August.
Phoenix Arizona
Location: Wexler's Playride. A pizza place that had an arcade, rides and tunnel gyms. Kinda like Chucky Cheese's
It was my 8th birthday party. In my little Minnie mouse party dress being cute. blah blah blah. ANYWAY!
There was this area in the pizza place where there were these air guns that you could shoot tennis balls at each other. While wearing helmets to protect the melon.
The person who was in charge of that area was a young man. Late teens early twenties. Lanky handsome, brown hair, white ball cap, white shirt, dark blue pants (I think sweat pants I know they weren't jeans. Yes my memory is very good.). This man is the unfortunate victim.
Well, I wanted shoot tennis balls at other kids. Had the helmet on.
Now the man was maybe two yards away from me. Had NO helmet on to protect himself from stray balls. He was crouching down doing something. Head down not paying the attention to what was around.
THIS was when my demon side took over...(I'm so horrible)
I stick a tennis ball down the barrel. Quietly position it at him. I aim. At his noggin. pull the trigger. BAM!
As soon as that ball hit him. He looked up at me. He gave me a "Oh no you did not just do that." Look, as best as I can describe it. He stands up, motions me over to him, I comply since the demon left my body. In total silence and calmness. He takes off my helmet and puts it down. Opens the gate and ushers me out.
Thats all I remember. I don't remember ever complaining about getting kicked out of the that area for the rest of the time I was there.
This memory has plague me for years since I felt so bad for what I did. If this person is here or wherever you are. If you remember this. I am sorry for what I did. I know it was wrong for me to hurt you like that. And I'm so glad that you handled it so well the way you did because I probably would have been scarred and tormenting myself even worse.
All right kiddies gather round for a very old memory that has been bothering me for years. This is also an apology to whoever was the victim. My fingers are shaking and I'm trying to keep myself composed here.
Backstory: I was a strange but good kid. But there were times I would do something totally demonic.
Year 1993 Late August.
Phoenix Arizona
Location: Wexler's Playride. A pizza place that had an arcade, rides and tunnel gyms. Kinda like Chucky Cheese's
It was my 8th birthday party. In my little Minnie mouse party dress being cute. blah blah blah. ANYWAY!
There was this area in the pizza place where there were these air guns that you could shoot tennis balls at each other. While wearing helmets to protect the melon.
The person who was in charge of that area was a young man. Late teens early twenties. Lanky handsome, brown hair, white ball cap, white shirt, dark blue pants (I think sweat pants I know they weren't jeans. Yes my memory is very good.). This man is the unfortunate victim.
Well, I wanted shoot tennis balls at other kids. Had the helmet on.
Now the man was maybe two yards away from me. Had NO helmet on to protect himself from stray balls. He was crouching down doing something. Head down not paying the attention to what was around.
THIS was when my demon side took over...(I'm so horrible)
I stick a tennis ball down the barrel. Quietly position it at him. I aim. At his noggin. pull the trigger. BAM!
As soon as that ball hit him. He looked up at me. He gave me a "Oh no you did not just do that." Look, as best as I can describe it. He stands up, motions me over to him, I comply since the demon left my body. In total silence and calmness. He takes off my helmet and puts it down. Opens the gate and ushers me out.
Thats all I remember. I don't remember ever complaining about getting kicked out of the that area for the rest of the time I was there.
This memory has plague me for years since I felt so bad for what I did. If this person is here or wherever you are. If you remember this. I am sorry for what I did. I know it was wrong for me to hurt you like that. And I'm so glad that you handled it so well the way you did because I probably would have been scarred and tormenting myself even worse.
(seriously, my mother finally stopped insisting that I wear socks to bed, because she was tired of digging them out of the sheets. I won't buy tennis shoes because I can't get them off my feet easily. My former boss bought me a pair of slippers for the office because she noticed how often I slipped my shoes off)
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