Enough of that. On to golf…
I ordered a sandwich on hole #14, but it didn’t get to me until hole #17, which was silly really. I could have just waited to finish and then ordered a sandwich, but I was happy to have it when it arrived. I ate it between shots as I finished my round. The fries were as wet and wiggly as worms and the sandwich had bacon, but that didn’t stop me from eating them.
When I was done playing, I looked for a shirt in the pro shop, but I had no desire to buy one after looking at them all. They were nice enough, but I felt I had spent my quota on golf for this trip already, and the guilt about Belinda’s birthday was still affecting me. I heard later she had to kayak with a stranger. I am sure she was mortified. He was nice enough, she said, a cop or a naval guy or both, but that must have ruined her birthday as quickly as our money was spent on this cruise ship vacation. James thought about being the odd one out (not riding with cousin Kyle) since it was his mom’s birthday, but he just couldn’t do it.
I also missed out on... the children parasailing for their first time. At least Eric took some video of it. I also heard that a discussion took place about my missing that part, but the video allowed them to continue without my being there since they knew I could see it later on the video.
After the fruitless shirt shopping (I couldn’t find a color or design I wanted either), I went out to talk with the starter. I thought it was the same guy with the dog, Dakota, the one I had met earlier who had started our group, but it was someone else. I saw the skinny guy again who talked to me right after my round. He was from California, somewhere near Beverly Hills. He said he shot a 37 on the front and a 38 on the back. I hated him instantly, this skinny guy who was smoking a cigarette claiming he was a great golfer who used to shoot under par all the time until injuries (back and shoulder injuries?) plagued him.
Please don’t tell me your score if you just shot a great round. Please don’t tell me you thought the course was easy and wide open, even if you had just played a course in Puerto Vallarta that had jungle everywhere and if you lost a ball out there it was just like hitting it out of bounds. I don’t want to know. You just told me your score beat my score by twenty strokes. How dare you! I just met you.
I have moved inside the bar called “The 19th Hole” now. It’s warmer since it was getting cooler and windier as the sun moved closer to the horizon. I am typing quickly; the iced coffee I just finished has affected my rate of speed.
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