So finally, on about the fifteenth tee, I hit the drive of my life. And any of you people who play golf, you know the drive I'm talking about.
The minute you hit it, you just drop your club. You pick up your beer, let's don't get stupid.
And I watch this ball just go and go and . . . kind of hit this guy in the head.
And I felt bad, but he overreacted.
I thought. I mean, it wasn't like a square hit; it just kind of glanced off his head.
But he goes whippin' his car off the freeway, like "here we go!", Mr. Attitude!, and parks.
So now, he's barrelling down the fairway on foot, screaming at the top of his lungs at me, like "What are you, some kind of cruddy golfer?"
I'm like, "Hey, I hit you, didn't I? You were traveling at sixty-five miles an hour!
That's a pretty good shot in my book."
