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Golf Course

August 06, 2011

As mentioned before, I was a really late bloomer so almost every experience was a new experience (beyond scholastics – but not gymnastics because I had flunked gym in H.S. even though I was on the Swim Team.)

So, a weekend trip (from Pasadena, CA) to San Diego, with first real boyfriend, who was ten years older, was a really new experience. I had no idea what we would be doing in San Diego but I had been in the Navy there and knew the town pretty good so thought it would be a fun trip. Boyfriend had other ideas: the purpose of the trip was to play golf at Cottonwood where the cottonwood trees ‘shed’ fluffy, white, cotton-like covered seeds, adding extra challenge, I guess. Being a good sport, I went along for the ride in the golf cart, where I remained until called upon to go to a little round cup and remove a really long pole with a flag on it. Boyfriend hit ball and it went into that cup, or hole, and he was very, very happy. Okay, I didn’t ‘get it’ but if that made him ecstatic, so be it. I had no further instructions so joined boyfriend in golf cart. We were traveling to the next place with a marker and boyfriend looked over at me and saw that I was holding a pole (he couldn’t see the flag) and he asked what I was doing. Golly, wasn’t golf HIS game? Why was he asking me? But, I answered that I was carrying the flag. He asked why as he quickly turned the cart around, without warning me or telling me to hold on: seems he was hoping to get back to that empty cup before the next golfers got a ball up on that mowed part of the grass. He didn’t appear really angry but he also wasn’t too happy so I thought that I had better respond to the ‘why’ question: “I thought that you won the flag so I took it even though it doesn’t seem too logical because where in the world are we going to put nine or 18 flags in the cart? Whoever designed the cart certainly didn’t think ahead.” Needless to say, we finished eight more holes, kind of in silence, and my feet didn’t leave the cart until we got back to the golf shop. I saw it as a lesson learned, an adventure: he never mentioned it again.