Kettle Creek golf course on a steamy Friday afternoon is not, I suggest, a good place for a date. We teed off at 2:31 against a fierce headwind. At least it kept the fallen leaves moving east, so we could eventually locate the errant balls that we’d hooked or sliced off the fairway. There were two tewenty-something couples in golf carts ahead of us. Now, Hub and I play a brisk 18 holes. We can rocket through Kettle Creek in about 3 hours in good weather, and that includes time spent hunting for balls in the rough or under bushes and two bathroom breaks.
But these folks were there more for socializing than golfing. Each couple had on similar outfits – dark pants and purple shirts on couple #1 and khaki pants and black shirts on couple #2. I don’t know about your view on this, but for me, unless you’re playing organize/team sports or work in an establishment that requires your name to be emblazoned on the pocket above your left nipple, sporting matching clothing just doesn’t work.
That wouldn’t have been so annoying if they hadn’t been molasses-slow. The young women alternatively giggled a lot or hunched over their clubs trying to assume positions they’d seen in training videos. Thery’d try a couple of different clubs and shift their foot positions then swing again. People, it’s a par 3 course! We don’t keep score, because that would take the fun out of it, and our calculations are limited to how strong the crosswind is and if that will help or hinder a slice. Luckily, at the third hole, one of the jaunty young men approached and asked if we wanted to play through. Oh, yes!