After writing yesterday’s blog, I got to thinking about my quick comment about the 18-year old beverage cart girl at the golf course. Then I remembered the details surrounding this little encounter and after running it through my head a dozen times, I realized that I am totally clueless around other women.
Let me explain…
On Sunday, I was sharing a golf cart with a friend of mine. He’s a bachelor; successful, reasonably good looking, etc. He’s also a known horndog with two houses in TX, but he lives here in Atlanta, and I’m pretty sure he has women in both locales.
On the course Sunday, we were rounding about the 9th hole when the beverage cart came motoring up the hill towards us. We were both frustrated enough with our game by then to need (YES! “need”) an alcoholic beverage, so we hailed down the cart.
For the uninitiated, it’s normal practice for the golf course manager to employ hot college-age girls to run these carts. It’s not because they are trying to exploit women; no, it’s more like the “Hooters” philosophy:
Hot girls = More Business
So, it’s simple economics.
However, today’s beverage cart girl was actually two girls, a brunette and a blonde. The brunette was driving, and her friend, the blonde, sat beside her with a blanket thrown over her legs to presumably, stay warm in the drizzly, gray soup we were playing in.
As the cart pulled up beside ours, the blonde said in a very attractive southern drawl, “Can I get ya’ll something?”
To which my friend replied, “Can I get a Diet Coke?”
Not wanting to be the first guy to get a beer, I seconded his request and the blonde removed her blanket and got up to fish our drinks from the back cooler. It was at this time, that I “noticed” the blonde and I looked over at my friend to see his reaction and as expected, he raised his eyebrows in surprise and looked over at me. We both gave that, “Yep, I agree” nod and walked around to pay the lady.
Now this is where I got all fuzzy. After noticing how cute she was, my married-ness kicked in and I found myself unable to look at her again. I couldn’t look at her eyes, I couldn’t look at her…shirt…nuthin! I also apparently went stone deaf! Because, according to my friend, she then sassed the both of us with a, “What’re you boys doin’, watchin’ your figures?”
Now, even the jaded among you must agree that was a flirtatious opening statement if you’ve ever heard one and had I been younger and single (and not deaf), I would have responded in kind. As it was, I was too busy acting like some gangly, uncomfortable teenager putzing around in my golf bag in the back of the cart. So much so that I didn’t hear my friend and her strike up a conversation, despite her being about 20 years younger than him.
The next memory I have is of us puttering away and my friend saying, “Wow, they sure grow them big up here in rural Georgia,” speaking not of her weight or height, but of her…well, you know.
Thinking about all the many the couple of times I’m reasonably confident that I’ve been hit on by other women since I’ve been married, and knowing how I react around good looking women, I have to say that, should (Heaven forbid) anything ever happen to make me a single guy again, I’m pretty sure I’d become a reclusive hermit; spending my days in the gym and my nights in front of the computer surfing for gym clothes. Because I seem to have lost all the Game that I ever had. And I’m not talking about Golf here now either.
I’ve really gotta get outta the house more.