Our gracious host, Rochelle, at Friday Fictioneers
asks us to use the photo below as inspiration
to write creatively in 100 words or less while
making every word count. This is my story.
Tag: Golf
SELF-PRESERVATION
β’Settlers or Sellers’, that antiques show is coming on. Wanna watch, Doug?β
Just then the phone rang. Itβs our daughter Chrissy talking about how tomorrowβs going to be a gorgeous day and our five grandkids really want us to go to the beach with them.Β
βOk, honey. Sounds wonderful. Weβll see you in the morning. Yes, weβre looking forward to it.β
Doug, who had been happily watching βSeinfeldβ, was now sitting imperially on the edge of the couch scowling at me.
βWhat was that remark ββweβll see you in the morningββ? I donβt know about you, Helen, but the only people Iβll be seeing in the morning are my golf buddies. Weβre going to rent a couple of carts, play 18 holes, drink martinis with lunch, talk sports and smoke cigars. Iβm begging you, Helen. Donβt take my day away!β
βOh, don’t be so dramatic! You can play golf any day. When do we get to go to the beach with the kids.β
βAs infrequently as possible!β Doug groused. βAnd Iβd like to keep it that way.β
βOh, come on! Summerβs almost over and the kids are so looking forward to a day with us.β
βAnd Iβm looking forward to seeing my buddies! Weβve had this outing planned for two weeks. Helen, must I remind you what hell it is going to the beach with the kids?β
βDoug, youβre making it sound horrible.β
βHelen, my love, it is horrible! Weβve been to the beach with the kids exactly three times. Do you know why? Because itβs HELL!β
βBut Doug, I hate to disappoint them.β
βAnd that, my dear, is your Achilles Heel. We start off excited for a great beach day and within an hour it turns into hell. Chrissy brings so much stuff weβre like the Israelites crossing the desert. Who complains the sand is too hot? Who needs a diaper change? Who drops their lunch in the sand? Who fights over the sand toys? Before you know it, everyoneβs crying, they want to go home and our wonderful day at the beach is kaput.β
βAnd youβre the one crying the loudest, Dougβ I laughed.
βDamn right I am, woman. Itβs a nightmare and you know it! Listen, why donβt I call the guys and suggest our lovely wives join us tomorrow? You havenβt played in months. How about it?β
The idea was very appealing. βDoug, do they still serve those delicious Celtic Guey Cocktails and Waldorf salads?β
βYou bet they do! I know theyβre youβre favorites. What do you say? Are we on?β
βYes! We certainly are on! You call the guys and Iβll call Chrissy. I hope the kids arenβt too disappointed.β
Doug kissed the top of my head. βHoney, it may not seem like it now but youβre doing us all a favor. The kids will be just fine β and so will we. Now call Chrissy.β
Feeling just a wee bit guilty, I dialed Chrissyβs number.
βChrissy, sweetheart. About tomorrow. So sorry to disappoint but your dad just reminded me ……β
NAR Β© 2023
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AN OFFER THEY COULDN’T REFUSE
The year was 1980. My husband Frank and I were excited to be back in Italy to celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary and Frankβs 30th birthday. Frank was a big sports fan so the timing couldnβt have been better; we would be in Rome for the Italian Golf Open at the prestigious Acquasanta Golf Club.
Founded in 1903 by British Embassy workers, Acquasanta is the oldest golf course in Italy and one of the most memorable places to play anywhere in the world. The club is located along the Appian Way, just a few kilometers from the heart of Rome. The views of the ruins of ancient Roman aqueducts on the front nine are nothing short of spectacular. We planned to spend a beautiful day walking the roughs and watching the tournament; in the evening we would celebrate Frankβs birthday in the elegant dining room.
Fate brought us together in 1974 when we both signed up for a backpacking tour of Europe. We had seats next to each other on the flight from New York and we hit it off great. We were both Italian; Frank spoke the language fluently while I barely knew enough to put a sentence together. The in-flight movie was The Godfather and Frank delighted in translating much of the dialogue for me.
Neither of us knew anyone else on the tour so we spent all our time together, sharing the stories of our lives. We enjoyed each otherβs company and found we had much in common. By the time the tour was over, we were in love. We tied the knot in New York in 1975 and now we were back in the place where it all began.
Our first day at Acquasanta was fantastic; the sky was clear, the sun shining and the temperature mild. The place was busy but not overly crowded and everyone looked quite pleased to be there. Smiling, friendly people greeted us with βCiao! Come stai oggi?β.
We decided to stop at one of the concession stands for a bite to eat; a few bistro tables and chairs were set up for spectators to sit quietly without distracting the players or disturbing the other visitors. Everywhere we looked the scenery was breathtaking with Mediterranean pines, cypresses and eucalyptus trees dotting the undulating terrain.
As I glanced around enjoying the view I couldnβt help noticing a group of men running in the opposite direction of the greens. More and more people joined the group; curious, Frank and I followed. As we got closer we saw a gorgeous young woman wearing a bikini; the sash she wore revealed she was Miss Italy 1980. There was a sign where she stood and a long line of eager men of all ages.
Frank suddenly started roaring with laughter. I asked him what was so funny; he pointed to the sign, doubled over with laughter as tears ran down his face. Practically hyperventilating, he managed to gasp out the words βIt seems they got the translations wrong. What it really says is βFor good luck, Miss Italy will kiss your ballsβ. It should say βkiss your golf ballsβ!β
I guess they made those men an offer they couldnβt refuse!
NAR Β© 2022
TI BACERΓ LE PALLE
The Elephant's Trunk 