But you shot me in the f*$#@*! face

I was walking the other day and passed an establishment called ‘Gymboree’. Perhaps you’ve heard of it. As I understand it, parents drop their kids off, and the kids are then subsequently entertained by a large number of large, soft, bright objects. They roll around, bounce into things, meet other kids, and get some damn exercise.

And you know, the whole process looks REALLY fun.

But small. I could easily dunk a basketball on the two foot rubber hoop. I could probably win a few games on that court, too.

I really think a grown up Gymboree would work. Just increase the size of everything, sell beer, make people sign a waver, throw in a few NERF guns, and you’re golden. Maybe throw in a big pirate ship or other thing on which to climb.

Look, everyone is a nerd. We all still like to play. It’s just, we all also want to get laid, so we don’t admit these things. Every once and a while, two people who are comfortable enough to admit their nerdiness meet, and things are good. They shoot things with NERF guns and play waffle ball in the middle of the night while solving crime. They aren’t too cool for anything.

This isn’t for guys who wear guys night outfits, or girls who swear it’s a good idea to wear skirts in forty degree weather.

This is for the kickball crowd. You know, me.