Playing Laser Tag With Crispin Glover
After a few weeks of Internet research, emails, texts, and phone calls, Jordan had made contact with Crispin Glover’s people–and then finally Glover himself–and had secured a day for them to meet and play laser tag.
He was thrilled. Glover was about as famous for being a weirdo as he was for being an actor and director, and the phone conversation in which they worked out the details of their play date had been gloriously awkward. Jordan was anticipating having all manner of hilarious “playing laser tag with Crispin Glover” stories he’d be able to bust out at parties, work, on dates, and at other social gatherings for years to come.
Unfortunately, Crispin Glover was into laser tag.
Like, WAY into it. Like, a owning-his-own-laser-tag-gun-and-full-laser-tag-“body armor”-and-running-up-to-you-yelling-“BOO-YAH! IN YOUR FACE!”-and-doing-an-obnoxious-victory-dance-whenever-he-tagged-you level of into it.
So the only story Jordan got out of playing laser tag with Crispin Glover was the one about how Crispin Glover was a total arse at the laser tag place and how he made a little kid cry and how Jordan and his friends ditched him and went to Perkins afterwards without him.
Which was an OK story, but not what Jordan expected. I mean, he would’ve had the same story to tell if he had invited Gary to play laser tag instead of Crispin Glover. Hothead wannabe jocks are a dime a dozen, but there’s only one Crispin Glover, and he had failed to bring the weirdness to the LaserMaxx Laser Tag Complex last Saturday, THAT was for sure.