Golf Tournament

I may have to maim Some Guy Named Bob so that he can no longer play golf. No, wait, that's insane, I like Some Guy Named Bob. Just say, if he turns up missing, I am your man. Some Guy Named Bob is the kind of guy who will attend any sort of event. His credit union annual meeting, his car dealer's customer appreciation barbecue, the new neighbor's open house, the grand opening of the dog park or just watching the paint dry. You name it, Some Guy Named Bob will be the first guy there and the last guy to leave. Even though most of these events suck, Some Guy Named Bob enjoys himself at them. It's a gift. I, on the other hand, would not go across the street to see the second coming. Social events are not my cup of tea. I've met people and usually, it is not what it's cracked up to be. Some Guy Named Bob especially likes charity golf tournaments and he is forever trying to get the Seafood King and me to play in them with him. Most of these tournaments are on Saturday, which gives me the built-in excuse of having to work. No one knows how Some Guy Named Bob finds out about all these tournaments, but he badgers us weekly about one or another. Bob has tons of disposable cash and would play every day if we would go along. My objection to these events is that they take too long to play. If golf lasts more than four hours, it's gone on too long. I have been to some of these things that lasted all day. Slow play by terrible players is the norm for these events. Then to stretch the day just a bit longer, afterward they have an "awards lunch". Some Guy Named Bob loves the lunches, no matter how awful the slop is. And believe me when I tell you, it is generally slop. Lukewarm hamburgers served in a room that is too small, with too many people crammed in to it. Sisyphus was condemned to eternally push a boulder up a hill. With my luck I will spend eternity playing in golf scrambles with Some Guy Named Bob. Being forced fed crappy hamburger and checking raffle tickets. Some Guy Named Bob did the unthinkable today. He found a fundraiser held on a Monday. Since he knows I am off on Monday and that I usually play golf with The Seafood King on Monday, he trapped me. We played in a fundraising tournament for the United States Air Force. It benefited a squadron that is deploying to Iraq next month. Why they need money was never explained, but there we were. We started at 7:30 a.m. and finished at 1:00 pm, way too long. The guys in font of us couldn't find their asses with both hands, so you can imagine how long it took them to find their lost golf ball on every hole. As a team we played as well as we can. Mostly, this is because The Seafood King is a terrific player. Some Guy named Bob and I just fill up the team. That reminds me of the story of the future of air travel. In the future, commercial airliners will be able to take off and land without a pilot. Since most people won't get on a computer-controlled airplane, there will still be a crew, consisting of a guy dressed as a pilot and a dog. The pilot will be there to reassure the passengers. The dog will be there to bite the pilot, should he touch the controls. That's me and Bob, no purpose beyond being present I bugged out as soon as we finished playing and Some Guy Named Bob hung around to eat the slop and find out what treasure he might have won in the raffle. I do not know how long the Seafood King stayed, but while I was eating lunch at a place down the street he came in with his wife. After lunch, I stopped at the grocery and Some Guy Named Bob was there. He confirmed that we finished fourth and said that he did not win anything in the raffle. But, he said the hamburgers were great. It's a gift. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky