Saturday Nights
I’m not a fan of Saturday nights.
I used to be, of course, when I was the guy out on the town, but now...
...not so much.
You see, I want everyone to stay home.
I hate worrying!
This week, I was all about getting some rest so I could make my early tee time.
Things were going well.
The boys were here and 48 Hours was starting.
“I have to go pick up my friend Kathy at the hospital and bring her home.’”
“I’ll probably be sleeping before you get home,” I said.
I headed out to put my clubs by the door, passed Jake.
“I’m going to my buddies house.”
“Be careful,” I said.
“Bah!” I thought.
I did a good job of not worrying as I read the Stephen King book and started to drift.
At 12:22, I was startled awake by police sirens. I strained to listen. Surely, everyone was here.
But there were no cars in the drive. I knew Kathy was at her friend’s home just three streets away. Jake?
Not sure?
Twenty minutes later, I heard a car coming down the street.
Jake!
I settled in.
Then texted Kathy.
Just checking in.
Tried to go back to sleep. Tee time was less than seven hours away.
Twenty minutes later, I checked the phone again. My message was ‘delivered’ and not ‘read.’
Kathy is notorious for NEVER looking at her phone.
Decided to ring it.
Nothing.
It took another 30 minutes to get an answer and 20 more to get back to sleep.
I hate Saturday nights!
Yet, it’s golf...
...I got up.
Parred 3 of the first 4 holes.
4,5,5,4,5,5,4 were my first 7 holes!
I was tired, but rolling them in.
Good conversation.
Physical activity.
Went in the woods to find a stray ball..
...found a virtually new 7-iron that someone threw away!
Text from Kathy...
...”sorry I didn’t look at my phone. We were talking. I know you worry.”
“All good.”
(Not really).
I used to be, of course, when I was the guy out on the town, but now...
...not so much.
You see, I want everyone to stay home.
I hate worrying!
This week, I was all about getting some rest so I could make my early tee time.
Things were going well.
The boys were here and 48 Hours was starting.
“I have to go pick up my friend Kathy at the hospital and bring her home.’”
“I’ll probably be sleeping before you get home,” I said.
I headed out to put my clubs by the door, passed Jake.
“I’m going to my buddies house.”
“Be careful,” I said.
“Bah!” I thought.
I did a good job of not worrying as I read the Stephen King book and started to drift.
At 12:22, I was startled awake by police sirens. I strained to listen. Surely, everyone was here.
But there were no cars in the drive. I knew Kathy was at her friend’s home just three streets away. Jake?
Not sure?
Twenty minutes later, I heard a car coming down the street.
Jake!
I settled in.
Then texted Kathy.
Just checking in.
Tried to go back to sleep. Tee time was less than seven hours away.
Twenty minutes later, I checked the phone again. My message was ‘delivered’ and not ‘read.’
Kathy is notorious for NEVER looking at her phone.
Decided to ring it.
Nothing.
It took another 30 minutes to get an answer and 20 more to get back to sleep.
I hate Saturday nights!
Yet, it’s golf...
...I got up.
Parred 3 of the first 4 holes.
4,5,5,4,5,5,4 were my first 7 holes!
I was tired, but rolling them in.
Good conversation.
Physical activity.
Went in the woods to find a stray ball..
...found a virtually new 7-iron that someone threw away!
Text from Kathy...
...”sorry I didn’t look at my phone. We were talking. I know you worry.”
“All good.”
(Not really).
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