Golfing is a common summer past time. That's what I hear anyway. However, it is not on my weekly list of must happens. I golf approximately two times a summer. Last weekend was the first for this one.
When I showed up to the golf course to meet the other three ladies who comprised our team, this is what came out of my mouth. "Alright...I don't have any clubs, balls, or tees with but I did bring drinks! And I have earrings and bangles on with inappropriate foot wear!"
That was followed with a star-jack because I had consumed a big ol' iced black coffee on my drive out to the small town. The iced black coffee makes me think I can fly.
I take the whole golfing thing real serious. I had to swing seventeen times to tee off on hole seven. Seventeen. My arms were tired. Everyone else had time for a bathroom break and were in tears laughing. They kept saying, "Ohhhhh, that one sounded so good too!" But no luck. Until the eighteenth swing.
Hole eight brought a round of leg wrestling. Please take me golfing with you. Especially if you like to win. I'm an asset to any team. And I promise I will wear dangly earrings and bangles with inappropriate footwear. That I promise. My nails will also be painted. Because that's important for the game.
But, I will need to borrow your clubs and your balls and your tees.
A serious golfer I am not. But a fun one I am. Although, I found out I needed to be a wee bit careful with my fun. I laid down next to the cart in the bright shining sun and exclaimed with my arms stretched out wide and my eyes shut, "This. Mmmmhhhmmm. This is why I come golfing. It's all for the sun."
Then I was ran over by the cart. I popped my hip up just in time to divert a major injury. Just in time.
Golfing gone wild. Golfing with jewelry. There's really no other way.
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