FORE!

I'll be away this weekend on a work-related golfing excursion that I voluntarily signed up for; a decision I quickly began to regret. Chasing a small white ball around a meticulously manicured lawn sounds like a lot of fun and all, but may I remind you that my Scandinavian skin gets burned by the sun when I sit in the shade. With SPF 30 on.

I guess my apprehension also has something to do with me never having played the sport. Nor watched it on television. In college I took a golf class as part of the mandatory Health & Physical Exercise curriculum; I dropped it after the first class.

But let's look at this in a positive light, shall we?

1) I get to buy a new outfit in which to golf - yay for cute argyle sweater vests!
2) All the Heineken Light I can drink.
3) Two words: Golf. Cart.
4) My B&B has a frignormous (somewhere between enormous and ginormous) Whirlpool tub. A bottle of wine, some candles, a good book and some bubbles and I'll be set for the night.

So really, when you look at it that way, a 5-hour car ride doesn't seem THAT bad, right? Right?