Something else got ruined

A while ago a bunch of guys got together to make a few bucks for their favorite charity and have a little fun doing it. They got a car that had been totaled along with a bunch of other stuff nobody wanted and most likely would not take if they won and took a bunch of pictures of the stuff and put a disclaimer below it that one really ought to inspecct the prizes before they entered. They also carefully noted that a sense of humor was required to enter.

Of course the whole thing was a sham simply to raise money for some charity that could really use the money. There was no real dishonesty in the doings, which happened to be a golf tourament.

The car was destroyed on the passenger's side but looked pretty good on the driver's so naturally they took the pictures of the driver's side for the advertising.

Most of the winners really didn't take their prize, they simply took a certificate of where they placed and called it good because like I said, the prizes were nothing more than a spoof. Like most golfers they play the game just for the game's sake and to win bragging rights.

Of course, the woman that won the car hadn't bothered to look it over beforehand and got all huffy when she saw she had just won a wreck and immediately called her lawyer. I guess the guys runnning the tourney settled as quickly as they could because they knew that it was the smartest thing to do.

Still, the lawyer is not the person that should have been called. The people that should have been called are named Moose and Vito.

The guys running the tourney were pretty smart, though. They had a connnection in the local paper and they reported the entire thing and the woman might have gotten a car out of the deal but by the time the facts had been reported she looked like the $hitass she really was.

She was one of those mean, petty selfish people that ruin things for everyone else.

On the other hand,

Back in the early 80s I had the time of my life in a golf tournament after I ran my mouth in a Kodiak bar.

The tournament was one of those dopey Alaskan things that are generally a lot more fun than their stateside counterparts because they generally wind up being a total circus. We've had raft races and all sorts of off the wall doings over the years. Back in the 70s and 80s, Alaska was a lot of simple home-made fun and people looked forward to doing stupid things.

The raft race we used to have originally had 6 mandatory beer stops and the first few line-crossers were generally disqualified for trying too hard. YOU figure it out. In reality it was nothing more thhan a way for the whole town to go out and blow the cabin fever out of their systems come spring. It was great for mental health.

This tourney was the 'Pillar Mountain Open Classic". We were to gold our way up Pillar Mountain, a one hole course.

The entry fee was fifty scoots that I didn't have and after a couple of libations I said that I would play on the girl's team if someone else would pay the entry fee. The next day I noticed on the sign-up board that the my name, although feminized was on it along with three other fairly prominent women. I was told to meet them in about an hour to arrange details. I showed up. I was now one of the girls.

One of the women had a reputatiion of sometimes being stuffy. When I showed up the first thing I said was, "Hey, Girls! Let's chippie our way to the top!"

The stuffy one of the three blushed a bit and then joined in the laughter as the entire bar had heard me. I guess it was then and there she decided to let her hair down a bit.

The weather for the tourney was cold as hell and windy. We showed up at a bar beforehand for the pre-game meeting and one of the women came up to me and said that if I was going to golf with the girls I had best look like one of the girls and  put an enormous bra on me that fit over my Carhart insulated coveralls.

She reached for a roll of paper towels to stuff the cups with but one of the other girls had an eagle eye and saw that each cup would hold a bottle of Pinch and stepped into the adjoining liquor store and came back with a pair of jugs which fit nicely into the bra. God knows who the original owner of the damed thing was but either she was pretty damned fat or super damned topheavy.

With a pair of scotch jugs for jugs they pulled a huge dress over my head and off we went.

I sure looked ridiculous in the outfit and I had a wild mane of hair and a shaggy beard at the time to add to the absurdity of it all but I had a great time being one of the girls.

I had gotten to go out and play with another different grroup of people that I never would have and over time I found myself being accepted by a group that would not have looked twice at me because I was just another scurvy fisherman.

One ot the first things I noticed is that the jugs got in the way of my golf swing. Fortunately the dress I was wearing was low cut enough so I could reach down into my bra and extract the bottles and hand them to one of the girls while I made my swing.

Naturally, when the bottles came out they all took a taste and it wasn't all that long until all four of us were thwacked.

By the time we reached the top of the mountain we were all toast, but the laughter and the one liners produced by a fisherman and three fairly respectable women in their early 40s were priceless.

I had one hell of a good time with those three women by playing the fool and although I got kidded a lot during the tourney there were a lot of people that wound up respecting me for being good natured and backing my comment about joining the girls team if someone would pay the entry fee.

There were a few other women that had entered and several of them commented to me that they admired the grace I showed during the tourney. In truth the indident opened q few interesting doors for me over time.

We all gad a pretty good time, too.







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