People are such BABIES
March 15th, 2005 -- Posted in >:O | 6 Comments »(From Saturday) This story began on the 15th hole on the Skywest golf course with me playing alone.
I was at the tee and there was a group of 4 ahead of me. They looked like two pairs that don’t know each other (one couple and 2 guys who are buddies). Their excessive practice swings begin to annoy me and since they appeared to be 330 yards out I figured I would hit. (When I’m lucky I can hit it 250 and I was hooking anyway.) At worst, the ball would roll behind them but it definitely would not reach them.
Of course Murphy’s Law kicks in. I ended up driving this baby about 240 yards and it rolled another 20-30 yards. It lands, from what I can tell, about 20 yards behind them. No worries. Plus it landed on the other side of the fairway. One guy with the long hair yells something that I can’t make out. It’s obvious he’s not too happy with me.
Instead of yelling out like a bumbling idiot (since I am over 270 yards away) I figure I will walk up and apologize and explain how I thought they were further away. I balk for a split-second since the guy looks like he may have a few nuts loose. But I brave on forward thinking that a simple apology will do.
His buddy takes his shot. Then they both walk back and to the other side of the fairway in order to pick up the ball and throw it at me. Yes, they THROW it at me. Of course I’m over 200 yards away still so I simply gesture with my hands a motion that says, ‘wtf?!’ (If I were witty I would’ve yelled out, “You throw like a sissy!”) They motion back and yell out another unintelligible comment. At this point I’m infruriated, but know that I am in the wrong for having driven on them. I yell out that I had thought they were further away and apologize for hitting onto them. The loud one responds with, “Did you say you thought we were further away?” “Yes,” I reply. “Next time don’t think before you hit!” he says. What the hell does that mean?!
I pick up my ball and walk up to the spot where I thought I hit it. Then I walk another 10 yards and reward myself for an awesome drive. At this point I’m going through my head what I will do in the case that this should come to fisticuffs. From that distance I can’t tell if they are any bigger than I. Since I’m by myself it would be a two on one (the other couple seemed to have a bewildered response by the whole exchange of words). I figure I will need to wield a club in order to make the odds even.
I determine that my weapon of choice will be my putter. It’s one of the heavier clubs and I don’t mind if it gets damaged. I’ve been thinking about getting a new putter, anyway, and this would be a perfect excuse. I can’t use my driver because that costs more than my putter.
On the next two holes, I give them my steel gaze as they tee off using any sort of extrasensory power to ruin their shots. When they hit poorly I’m laughing haughtily on the inside but simply grin to myself.
On the 17th hole, I find a golf towel by the green that one of them must’ve dropped. My initial reaction is to throw the towel in the lake. (Oddly, this is Audrey’s initial question when I told her this story. Am I that predictable?) Throwing the towel in the lake would surely give me a good laugh and would make for a great story. But what if the towel belongs to someone in the couple who seem to be decent people? I’d surely want to return this to them. I figure I’ll take my chances. If it belongs to the nice couple, fine, but if it belonged to one of the punks then perhaps my kind gesture will impart some guilt in them. If it’s the latter situation, I find myself on the fence between putting forward a truly kind gesture and sadistically wanting the person to feel like an ass.
It turns out the towel belonged to the yelling man. He grudgingly mumbles a “thank you” as I give his towel back to him and as he turns away I imagine him with a tail between his legs. Victory is mine!!