I fear the amusement of this afternoon will come at my own expense.
You see, this morning I shook off the dust and cobwebs from my golf clubs, which have been severely neglected for the last 16 months. And now, after letting my golf muscles (and any skill that I might have possessed in my former life when I golfed somewhat regularly) atrophy to the point where I'm not even sure I remember how to hold the club, I am supposed to play with someone who I want to impress. I can only hope that he'll have a sense of humor as I try to remember how to swing that thing so that it makes contact with the ball. Or as I search endlessly for my ball in the trees. Or as I pull out flip-flops from my bag so I can at least be comfortable during the hours I will surely spend in the sand.
I'm quite sure I'll achieve the highest score. (Not a good thing, for all you non-golfers.) Should make for entertaining stories, anyways. Fore!
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