Bad day at golf today. I hate when that happens. It just ruins the day. The guys I play golf with are great and when I play bad, I get grumpy and it makes things less fun for all. I have learned to keep it inside as much as possible but the frustration leaks out from time to time.
I finally got serious 5 holes before the end. Too late to do any real good.
I like to joke that it takes me 17 holes to warm up. Sometimes longer.
After golf, we head into the restaurant where we take turns waiting for someone else to buy the beer. Eventually, someone volunteers and the mood improves immeasurably. We then (those of us who successfully avoided buying the beer) order over priced sandwiches to eat with our mooched beer. During this time, we engage in the male version of gossip. To be honest, that form is indistinguishable from the female version except in the language used.
I ate a "mini-Cuban" sandwich. If you do not know what a Cuban sandwich is, or have never had one, you are missing out. Take a hoagie roll, slap on some ham, some sliced pork, pickles, mayo and mustard, put the whoile thing in a heat press and cook it.
The problem is that it was a "mini" version. That means it was small. Very small. Adequate to stave off my hunger but not to fill me up. I do not eat to stave off hunger. I eat to get that bloated feeling. If one does not overeat then what's the point?
So, now that I am home... I am looking for snacks.
Hence the short post today.
A Night Unremembered
13 years ago
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