My boyfriend Jeremy took me paintballing.  He got me shiny red and green soccer-like wear.  He wasn't actually going to go out, though.  We went out onto the field, and I was still tying my shoes as they called for the start of the game.  I shot a few people and got shot myself, and we tried to get out the gate.  For the next game, they had us use the top entrance.  The thing we were supposed to fill from was higher than I could reach.  A person was supposed to enter their social security number before they could get it (paint? air? don't know).  When I asked someone to do it for me, it didn't work.  I wasn't allowed to play.  I tried to get a hold of Jeremy (he was supposed to be watching in the stands or something) but I couldn't.  I ended up thrown into the other side, with waterslides.  I asked a girl how long we had to wait before going down the slide, but she wouldn't tell me.  I decided to go down, since I was right there, and didn't know any other way out.  I came out, coughing and sputtering from the pool, and finally spied Jeremy.  I called to him and he asked me what had happened.