"Make it do the work!" I shouted so half the course could hear. The statement made no sense in any context, and I did not know I said it until I walked to the ladies' tee for my girlfriend's shot. She was doubled over with laughter.
"Do you shout at your discs when you golf by yourself?" she asked between sharp inhales. Throw your disc, my body language said.
She wound up and threw. "Take it to the cleaners!" she shouted. I finally started to chuckle. We then compiled the following list of disc drive demands.
Give me the money!
Pull the string!
Swing away!
Mow the lawn!
Maneja el autobus de la ciudad!
Negotiate with protruding trees.
Kiss the hole!
Eat chain!
Call the doctor!
Make her whinny!
I was so excited about tying my personal course record that I registered for this weekend's Tar Heel Tournament, the only Professional Disc Golf Association tournament in the Chapel Hill-Carrboro area despite the many courses. I called my girlfriend to tell her I felt like Tiger Woods. I sent messages to a couple golf buddies about the opportunity for early registration. My friend Jesse prepared to come back to Chapel Hill from Washington to play the tournament.
Then I got this e-mail from the tournament director.
~
J.,
Right now you are 10 on the waiting list. The tourney filled last week. I'll keep you updated as others drop out. If you do not get in, you will receive a full refund.
~
I am crushed.
~
I am crushed.
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