Monday, July 18, 2005

Attack of the Pressurized Water 

Sunday we went golfing with a couple of friends up at Green Meadow Golf Club in Hudson, NH. The Girl was on a quest to realign the planets by beating me, after her 1-stroke defeat on St. Croix. Happily, she achieved her goal, 104-109. But that's not the entertaining part of the story (although she might disagree).

When we had loaded our stuff into the carts and were just about ready to head up to the starter, when The Girl decided she might as well hit the rest rooms once before heading out. The clubhouse is on a hill, and you can go in through the main entrance upstairs at the front or the downstairs entrance at the side. We were halfway between, and she headed for the upper entrance. When she was halfway to the door, I called up, "Can you pick up a scorecard while you're in there?" She waved and nodded. The two starter guys, who bore a striking resemblance to Statler & Waldorf, called after her, "Do you need a scorecard?" She didn't hear them, so I called up that she's fine. They call again, "Miss, do you need a scorecard?" She continues on, so I call up that she's just going to the restroom. "What?" "SHE'S GOING TO THE RESTROOM!" Well, that changed everything, because now it became their mission to let her know that she can get direct access to the restrooms by going in through the lower level entrance. By the time they got her attention, though, she was a few steps from the main entrance. They couldn't just let her go in that door and walk down the stairs, in their overzealous attempts to be helpful. Instead she wound up appeasing them by turning around and walking back past the cart where she started and down to the lower entrance. Thanks for the help, guys.

Then we pulled up to Statler & Waldorf so they could give us the day's rundown on the course. They have a "Jungle Course" and a "Prairie Course," but there was some repair work on Jungle 1, so we'd play Prairie 1 then cut over to Jungle 2 and continue on. Prairie 1 would be the only hole on which the regular cart path rules wouldn't apply, because of the whole cutting over requirement. I've played there maybe twice, and not within the last couple of years, so I inquired what the cart path rules are. "The same ones we usually have." Helpful. So I pointed out my lack of familiarity with the course, and they gave me the rundown. Then after my third request they finally gave me the precious scorecard as well, and we were on our way.

As we were approaching the green on Prairie 1, I was a bit off the fairway, atop a hill. I gave the ball a nice little whack with my pitching wedge, kept my head down appropriately, then looked up to see how I fared. Just as I looked toward the green, I spotted something emerging from the ground, rather like the periscope headed monster tentacle in the waste disposal room in the original Star Wars (or like the alien popping out of Dead Crewman One's stomach in Alien). Before it had time to register, the sprinkler system came on full blast, with an expertly aimed shot directly into my open left eye.

Everyone thought this was quite amusing until they noticed that I had slammed down my club and was busy clutching my eye with both hands while staggering about the hilltop, pretty much blinded. But after the stars cleared away and I established that I was still in possession of my much-needed contact lens, I slogged my way over to the green to join the others and to commence my long journey to dripping dry.

The rest of the day was much better.

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Posted by Beth Henderson at 8:17 AM