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Monday, July 18, 2011


First, I don't golf, frankly think it's a dumb game. Had to get that out.
So the only times I am apt to ride in a golf cart are whenever I am visiting friends who own a home on a lovely private island. On island, golf carts or walking are the sole modes of transportation.
This past weekend I was still in the recovery mode from the broken ankle, and my friends decided it would be best if they literally carted me all around, so I got to ride shotgun. The cart was piled up three feet high with coolers, umbrellas, beach chairs and other assorted paraphanelia, by the way. 
This particular chariot was having some issues that day, and my friend (whose name I'll leave out to protect the not so innocent) had never driven it before. Everyone else hoofed it down to the beach, while she and I got into the vehicle and started it up.

The tricky part of driving the beast involved a choke issue and a gas pedal that either fed it boatloads of fuel or nothing at all, or so I understood.
Seconds later my friend and I are heading downhill towards the water at an alarming rate, and visions of both of us flying out completely filled my head. I started screaming like a pterodactyl. I've never heard a pterodactyl screaming, but I'm willing to bet the farm that I sounded just like one. 
We managed to round the curve, narrowly missing the shoreline (okay, I exaggerate) when a couple of feet later, the thing just died in front of someone's house, completely flooded.
Several minutes ensued during which we were the hub of suggestions from well meaning neighbors, including one soul who asked us to move the thing so we wouldn't be in anyone else's way. 
Yeah, right.
I'm not exactly sure why we decided that trying to go backward might be a good idea -- and as  soon as my friend turned the key the cart shot out faster than the last shuttle launch in reverse.
Energized, she shouted "I'm gunning this thing until we get to the beach!" Her eyes were wide and crazed.
In seconds we careened past holes, rocks, narrowing paths and bushes while I kept up an alternate running commentary of upcoming obstacles.
"Another hole! Mud!"
"BIGGGG rock, BIGGG rock!"
Somehow we made it to shore in one piece. 
Several hours later when it was time to go back to the house for lunch, we both took one look at each other and just walked back.
It seemed the prudent thing to do.
Amen, and pass the mustard.

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