How I Learned To Love Drag Part 10

As I stood on the first tee of the Royal Vancouver Golf Club, I must admit that Lotus Land sure had a lot going for it. On one side of me was a breathtaking view of the Pacific Ocean. In front of me was one of North America's finest golf courses. And in the distance was the snow-capped peak of majestic Mount Baker.

"Ladies first," I said to May.

"Thanks," she replied.

I watched as she lined up the ball. She took a practice swing, then with a little waggle of the club, she went into her swing motion again.

"Whoook!"

I followed the flight of the ball. It must have sailed two hundred yards down the middle of the fairway.

"Good shot!" I said.

"Thanks."

"I hope I won't embarrass myself."

"You said you played before."

"Uh huh, but watching your gorgeous form might just throw off my concentration a little," I suggested.

She smiled.

May was dressed in an eye pleasing turquoise golf dress that showed off her shapely legs. I couldn't help myself. I was a leg man from way back.

Then I went into my hockey swing. "Whoook!" Adam Sandler didn't invent that in Happy Gilmore.

My ball was in trouble from the start. It sliced right, finding the deep rough on the first bounce, about a hundred fifty yards down the fairway. Perhaps it may have even rolled into the Douglas Fir forest.

"Damn balls," I complained. "These balls aren't supposed to slice or hook. They're guaranteed to go straight."

"I hope you kept the receipt. But I don't think the ball is the problem. Ultimately, no matter how you slice it, a golf ball is still a golf ball."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I merely said I had played the game before. I didn't say my name was Tiger."

"So why are you wearing dark pants, a red shirt and a black Nike cap?"

"Would you believe the intimidation factor?"

"Good try. I'm trembling," she said with a smile. "But right now, Woods might be appropriate."