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Four hardcore, four-time a week, six-handicappers teed off @ 6:16 this morning at our finest private course here in town.
On the fourth hole they caught up with a floundering group of duffers hitting their second shots from various zip codes into an elevated green. One of the regulars implored the early birds for the right of way to no avail. This scene was repeated countless times throughout the course of the round with no passage allowed.
Once back in the clubhouse for drinks and post mortems, nasty insults began being hurled by the more accomplished foursome. The bartender slipped over to the disgruntled members' table and, trying to be as politically correct as possible, informed them that the lesser accomplished guests were in fact a group of legally blind fellows that attended annually for therapeutic purposes only.
The highest strung graphite shafter quickly demurred and gracefully requested that the visitors' greens fees be quietly placed on his tab. His cart partner quickly demanded that their counterparts' drinks be transferred to his monthly bill. The third offending member, who had somehow managed to walk a tightrope between stroke and seizure for the better part of five hours, ordered surf and turf for eight and suggested tables be joined for introduction and capitulation.
The fourth and clearly most level minded of the embarrassed members sat stoically while his partners waited in vain for his peace offering.
"F--- 'em", he submitted without facial expression. "They could have played last night"
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