Obviously,,, you're not a golfer

Holy crap... solid choice, you are going to LOVE this story.

Early last week, a friend of mine, Steve*, sent out an email to a handful of dudes suggesting that we golf on Saturday. Hell yes, I'm in. I haven't golfed in about a year but thankfully it's not that hard. Everyone who was emailed responded and Steve made a tee time for 3 at 1pm. Radical. Golf was on. I was pretty pumped.

FFWD >> Saturday Morning. I was driving all over town to secure rollerderby tickets for the upcoming sold out bout. What's rollerderby you ask? You have some catching up to do. Start here.

So, I drove to a coffee shop in West Seattle which is owned by one of the rollergirls. I bought THE LAST THREE TICKETS IN TOWN (I think... every other place I checked was sold out). As I was leaving I ran into none other than, Carly*, Steve's lovely wife.

Mike: Oh man, fancy seeing you here.
Carly: I know, weird.
Mike: I'm totally getting my fix today... you now, and Steve this afternoon.
Carly: What are you talking about?
Mike: I'm golfing with Steve and Jack* this afternoon at 1pm. He didn't tell you?
Carly: No you're not.
Mike: Yes I am.
Carly: No you're not.
Mike: What? Why?
Carly: Steve went skiing this morning.
Mike: Are you effing kidding me?

Seriously, Steve made arrangements for us to golf on Saturday, then went skiing. Awesome. Apparently he somehow didn't think that we finalized things. I don't get it. Anyway, I went golfing with Jack. It was fun. Some highlights of the round: a birdie, 2 Rainier tall boys, and a sandwich (half of which was eaten by a crow... effing crow).

* Names that were not my own were changed to protect the identity of friends.

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