Action Town Paint Ball

I got shot in Hialeah. That’s a factually accurate sentence, by the way. Recently, someone told me to go to hell, and that’s how I ended up in Hialeah.

So I got shot with a paintball. I had never been paintballing before and figured it wouldn’t be bad to give it a [oh god] shot. The occasion was my best friend’s bachelor party. I was in charge of getting a fun day going, and I was expecting for us guys to end up at a strip club, and you all know how much I love strip clubs. However, as it turns out, my best friend is no fan of strip joints either, so he thought it would be cool to shoot each other gangland style instead.

Groupon had a thing for this place, so we opted for that. It included something like 500 paintballs per person and sweaty rental gear.

When we arrived, the first thing I noticed was “HOLY HELL THIS PLACE SMELLS LIKE SHIT.” It smells like what I would imagine Dog the Bounty Hunter’s breath would smell like. It had rained a little recently (12 hours before), so I thought the mixture of water and the rodent litter-like wood shavings they line the floor with makes things smell like Lil Wayne’s hair. But no, other patrons commented on how it always smells that bad. Perhaps it’s the usual Hialeah musk. I can’t describe the Hialeah musk as easily as I can describe the Overtown musk (crack and cocoa butter), but I feel like it involves Curve.

What makes the Hialeah musk?

Source of the Hialeah musk.

The staff contains probably some of the most aloof motherfuckers around. I don’t understand shitty service. I highly doubt a new business includes, “Marginal customer service” in their business plan, but that’s what seems to happen often in South Florida-based businesses. We were in the lobby for about 15 minutes waiting to move on. Once we’re given our smelly gear (which was wet, that’s always a good sign), put it on, and contracted an especially potent case of ringworm, we were ready to begin.

It smells like what I would imagine Dog the Bounty Hunter’s breath would smell like.

They have two courses: A speedball course, and a speedball course. One is with the inflatable balloons type, and the other is with wooden crates. In preparation for our visit, they did us the honor of flooding the courses so we could get spa-like mud treatments. I appreciated that very much, thanks Action Town! We first opted for the wood crate pool course. Again, this was my first time paintballing, so I was interested in how fun it could be. The ref calls it, and we begin. I was instantly transported back to Iraq. I can still see it in my head like it was yesterday. The horror, the horror. Pink paint whooshing past me and the cries of children waiting outside the course bitching because they wanted us to hurry up so they can have their turn. I saw my best friend get shot right next to me, and his last words were “fuck, man, I can’t see because I got paint on my mask.” In anger for the loss of my comrade, I began an offensive through their flank. But I got shot an inch from my nut sack easily as my shitty fucking rental gun got jammed.

Paintballing hurts. If it’s one of the reasons why you don’t enjoy it, people will call you a pussy, but that’s fucking retarded. Getting kicked in the nuts hurts too, but you won’t really hear people like, “Come on, bro, stop being a fucking pussy and let’s play a few rounds of kick-each-other-in-the-balls-as-hard-as-possible.” I don’t understand why it’s any different with paintballing, because only the masochisiest of masochists enjoy getting pegged with a little marble going 200 mph. Maybe if you’ve got padding on every inch of your body. Yeah, tolerating the pain can be done, but why the fuck should you? I can tolerate being slapped 10 times in a row by a sassy black woman but just because I don’t WANT to doesn’t make me a pussy, it makes me a pragmatist.

In preparation for our visit, they did us the honor of flooding the courses so we could get spa-like mud treatments.

So we played for a few hours, braving the putrid stench reminiscent of queefs and halitosis. Over the course of it I got much better, and I took delight in aiming for people’s fingers because I got hit there early on and didn’t want to be the only person suffering from inflicted arthritis. Make sure you take your own water because: A) It’s fucking expensive there; B) If you do want to buy it, you have to go through their stellar customer service whose policy is “over 15 minutes or it’s free.”

If your idea of a great time is paintballing, mazel tov. I still wouldn’t recommend Action Town to my worst enemy though, mostly because making recommendations to people you don’t like is stupid, but also because of the other implied reason for that statement. I firmly believe this place is run by idiots, as evidenced by the “Faq’s” section on their website. “Faq’s”. Faq this place and their extraneous apostrophe.