Small Golf
On Friday night, Poomobile, Big Guy, Orange and I played small golf. "Small golf?" you say. "Qu'est-ce que c'est?"
Small golf is serious miniature golf, sans windmills and banking walls. Small golf takes place on a course that is literally a smaller version of an 18-hole golf course, complete with sand traps, short cut grass, and water. We played it skins-styles, $0.25 per hole.
Big Guy kicked butters, regardless of the trash talk I ladled out earlier in the day. My golf glove did little to improve my game, and neither did the bank shots I hammered over the marshland (much to the course owner's chagrin.) It would appear Big Guy's decision to bring his own club and ball did, however...
What can I say? You can take the windmills out of mini-golf, but you can't take the florescent pink ball out of the girl.
In other news, T-minus 48 hours until vacation time. Dear me... Can it be true?
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