So, this is going to be a rant.
My Saturday suddenly took shape on Thursday. Let me explain. Rosa, from the Writers' Club, had arranged a coffee afternoon starting at 3 on Saturday. I couldn't make it, Beloved Daughter had a golf lesson at North Shore @ 3 after playing 18 holes with good friend E at 9.30, at Gulf Harbour.
E has her birthday this QB weekend. She asked BD to go to movies and bowling with her; BD explained about the lesson and E explained the movie was only at 5, so it could be done if E's parents collected BD from North Shore, which is where they live anyway.
On Thursday, E's Dad, who is blessed with common sense, pronounced that there was no point everyone driving south at the same time, and it made sense for him to collect the girls after golf, drive them both south to North Shore where BD could have her lesson while E practised for an hour.
Again, let me explain. BD and E are cut from the same cloth. Ask them if they want a random hours' golf practice, they'll knock you over as they sprint for the driving range, yelling, "Okay, thanks!" over their shoulders. Get up, buy a bucket of balls and get used to it.
What all of this meant was not only were E's parents saving us driving time, I could make the coffee afternoon. All I had to do was drive up to Gulf Harbour at 2-ish, collect BD's trundler - to save E's parents lugging that all over the place as well as BD's clubs and clothes - and then go home and enjoy coffee afternoon.
BD normally texts me to say "Bottom of 18th" or "eating chips", by way of pick-me-up. When neither had arrived by 1:45 I decided to drive up anyway. I assumed my usual position at the end of the 18th. There were four men in black.
They cleared the green.
They were not these sorts of Men in Black
In the Twilight Series : New Moon, the heroine has a nervous breakdown after the hero leaves her. These are announced by three blank pages with the legends "October" "November" and "December" printed in the middle. I often wish the author of Fifty Shades had done us the same courtesy by printing several blank pages of "Mindblowing Sex At [insert time here]", rather than actually inflicting the cut-and-paste sex scenes on us but I digress. where I was going with this was that blank pages were turning in my mind and they had "Golf Players?" written on them.
It was 2; no parents, no golfers.
Something poked its head up over the top of the ridge on the 18th. I watched, bemused. It was a cart.
Two figures emerged, shuffled around, found stuff. Another two balls emerged; one of them into the rough on the far side of the cart track. Someone got behind the wheel of the cart and drove it down the track, stopped, and got out and started stamping rough. It took me a while to work out he was trying to find his ball.
I'm no rules official. But I'm pretty sure that 'forever' is an illegal amount of time to hunt for your ball while everyone else loses the will to live.
I watched, mesmerised, as they took five-six-seven-eight practise shots for each swing (BD is allowed 1).
It was 2.10. No parents, no texts.
The four elderly gentlemen finally exited the green. One, two and three little white balls dropped onto the fairway, two orange golf bags rose into sight (did i mention, both E and BD love orange?) and shortly after, BD, E AND H, the Lady Captain, who had booked in to play with them, made their way to the green, did due diligence and shook hands.
BD looked surprised to see me, and I waited till after cards had been signed to say, "You know it's 2.25, don't you?"
None of them did. No phones switched on unless you're tellimg your Mum to pick you up next hole.
No way was BD going to have chips and Coke with E and H. Her only chance of making it to her lesson was Me Here doing an Ayrton Senna down to the Shore. On Queens Birthday weekend. When no cop in New Zealand gets leave.
I gave her the binoculars, and relived my youth. Got her there just in time for her lesson. Missed coffee.
So, here's my rant.
I know - believe me , I know!!! that any 4-ball has rights over a 3-ball. But you 4 gentlemen - and I use the word reservedly - chose to watch two speedy teenage girls and their not-slow captain wait on you at EVERY hole, and would not let them play through. Why?
Results.
Me, speeding stupidly with my 15-yo glued to the binoculars to warn me if she saw a police car. A dubious lesson in morals.
My BD, stressed out beyond necessary, apologising for something that wasn't her fault.
E's parents, apologising for shit they couldn't control.
Missed coffee afternoon, with no way to phone and apologise.
Rant over.
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