Chapter 3 Horse-Bleep Luck
I rolled into Reno late that afternoon and began looking for the visitors' center. It wasn't hard to find and I told them I was looking for a nice hotel on a golf course. Apparently there were only about twenty of them. Maybe I'm exaggerating. I picked one with a familiar name and called to see if they had a room. Yes indeed they did and some coupons for the casino as well as the golf course. I booked four nights on a whim. What the hell, I could find something to do.
I didn't stay up late that first night. The long drive in from Salt Lake City had gassed me and I was barely able to finish my dinner before I headed to my suite and crashed. A dreamless ten hours later I awoke to find it was not quite seven in the morning. No problem. These places operated twenty-four/seven. I showered, shaved, dressed and headed for one of the restaurants for breakfast. I resisted the temptation to have the whole meal deal and settled for juice, fruit, toast, and coffee ... all complimentary to guests I learned.
I checked with the concierge to find out the situation at the golf course. Since I was a single, he recommended I drop over and pick up a threesome. I wouldn't have to wait long he assured me. That was good enough for me. There was a shuttle to the course so I grabbed my clubs and shoes from the Audi and walked to the pick-up location. I didn't have to wait five minutes before the little bus arrived and whisked me off to the clubhouse. As we passed some of the holes I could see I was going to be playing a much better and probably more difficult course than Cheyenne. This would be a test for sure.
I passed the complimentary coupon to the attendant at the pro shop and he recorded my name. I was fairly early for most people and he thought I wouldn't have to wait more than a few minutes. In the meantime, if I'd like to use the putting green he would page me when he had a slot. True to his word, I'd barely had enough time for a dozen medium length putts when he called my name.
I walked to the shop and he pointed toward the first tee.
"You'll be joining the Feiler threesome, Mr. Monahan," he said.
I followed his finger and saw three women standing on the first tee, looking back at the pro shop. Oh shit! I guess I'm going to have to behave myself.
"Good morning, ladies," I said with a smile and my most polite voice. "My name is Terry Monahan and I've been added to your group."
My presence didn't seem to cause any consternation on their part.
"Hi, Terry. I'm Carla, and this is Ramona and Crystal," she said, pointing at the other two women. I was being paired with three forty-something women, all fairly attractive and well dressed. Quickly checking out their clubs, they were also well equipped.
"Nice to meet you," I said. "Which tees will you be playing from?"
"The reds, as usual. Some of us don't hit very far I'm afraid, so we need all the help we can get," Carla chuckled. She appeared to be the spokesperson for the group.
"Okay. I'll play from the whites. I'm just getting back into the game so I don't need to challenge myself too greatly yet."
I was first to tee off, delighted that I hit a decent drive down the right side of the fairway. The ladies advanced to the red tees and began to tee off. Carla was first and smacked a solid drive that landed within feet of my drive. I gave her a quizzical look and she just shrugged.
Crystal was next and she hit a nice clean drive right down the middle. From the swing I guessed she'd spent more than a few hours with the club pro somewhere. Finally, Ramona stood on the tee and proceeded to hammer out a prodigious drive down the left side but showing a pro fade that brought it back to the middle. When it finally came to rest is was easily forty yards past my ball.
"All right you three," I chuckled. "What's the deal?"
I got the fake innocent look from them before they burst out laughing.
"Sorry, Terry," Carla laughed. "We couldn't help ourselves. All three of us play competitive golf in club tournaments. Ramona is our club ladies champion and has won a bunch of trophies."
"Now that is not a surprise when I saw that drive," I said. "I'm in for a challenge I hadn't counted on, I think."
"What's your handicap, Terry?" Crystal asked.
"It used to be a nine, but I haven't played in over two years and not much before that. I'm just getting back to it now."
"Don't worry. It'll come back to you," Carla assured me.
"I hope you're right. I've really been looking forward to getting back to playing regularly.
We had been walking down the first fairway toward Carla's ball. It was a par four, three-seventy from the reds, four hundred and ten from the whites, with traps left and right in front of the green. The fairways were lush and the rough was not too thick.
Carla pulled out a three wood, took a practice swing, then hit a perfect shot right down the middle just in front of the green and avoiding the traps.
"Well done," I said. "You have a great swing. All three of you do."
"We were all taught by the same pro," Ramona said. "We've been playing together for years."
Crystal stepped up and once again hit another dead straight three wood that rolled up on the green, thirty feet from the pin. This was going to be quite an education for me I thought. These ladies could play.
I was next, and chose a five iron, assuming I would hit the ball about the way I did in Cheyenne. I was wrong. I hit the shot solidly but it flew the pin and bounced off the back of the green. Shit! I'd have to adjust if I was going to hit flyers like that.
"Use one club less, Terry," Carla said. "Dry air and altitude."
I nodded. I thought I had compensated for that but obviously not enough. We walked up to Ramona's ball and I watched her take an eight iron out of her bag. Jesus Christ ... a fucking eight iron for a woman on a four hundred yard hole. Is she kidding?
Nope. I knew as soon as I heard the hit that it was plenty of club. It landed twenty feet short and rolled another ten feet, just right of the target. All I could do was shake my head.
"Tell you what," Ramona said with a laugh. "How about you and I tee off from the whites and let the other girls play the reds. That might make it more interesting."
"I'll go for that. At least I won't feel like a pussy," I said, immediately regretting the vulgarism.
It brought a laugh from all three women, so I guess I wasn't in trouble.
I chipped up to within eight feet of the pin, noting some of the feel had come to me late in the Cheyenne game was still with me. Praise be! I sank the putt for a par. A hell of a good start.
Carla chipped short and missed her putt for a par and settled for a bogey five. Both Crystal and Ramona made their pars. It was off to the second hole.
With both Ramona and me now on the whites I think my dick started doing the thinking for me. It wasn't like these were super hot babes but I wasn't going to let some woman out-drive me if I could help it. It was another par four with a nice wide fairway. Why not let out a little extra shaft and pound the shit out of it, my dick thought.
I watched as my drive sliced right over the trees and onto the adjoining fairway. Not what I was intending to say the least. Ramona then finished my humiliation by hitting another perfect slider down the left side and back into the center about two hundred and fifty yards away. Once upon a time that was my Sunday best. I needed to get my shit together or I was going to be embarrassed.
