Golf weekend (May 30^th - May 31st, 1998)

I lack the ability to explain why a 1 PM tee time requires a 4:00 AM wake-up, but that's the way it was. Travelling to Carl's house, dark, just barely light, we strove towards the bus, on time, about 5:30. Guys, standing in a parking lot across from a big blue bus; we were at the right place. Driving, all aboard, the "duty free", I had to buy a bottle of scotch, it had a deal on it. Done.

We arrive at the course, early. I go to hit practice balls knowing it's just a hint cool, THREW by back out. Hoping then, just to play we tee off and play six holes. No good can’t move and sit it out, drinking, smoking herbs as we go a round.

Finishing, Carl becomes a hero when telling the bus driver how to get where we're going. His local knowledge saved a perplexed man (the bus driver, who should really be in a different profession) the problem of not being actually able to find his destination.

The room, Howard Johnson's in Toronto, had one king size bed and a fold-up bed and hey, no way I'm not sleeping with Carl.

Hey, I forgot to say Carl and Jimmy won "skins" about $100 each, which went into a pot, to do, later, what ever we wanted to do. Did I mention we'd had, mostly, nothing to eat, except of course that dry corned beef sandwich, with NO BEER 'cause "it was too early".

So, we drank some scotch and did some herbs and talked about the world, and then we left for "the clubs". There were two, both the same. Large rooms with stages in the middle, where girls "dance".

The dance goes in three steps. Step one in clothes. Step two, top-less. Step three, naked.

For those who were not totally involved in "the show", actresses went about asking for dances, mostly naked. Just a tip, don't think they really like you, it's just business.

The trip from one club to another, the funniest line of the trip. "Hey, you look like Ron Jeremy, the porn star", says I to the cab driver. He said, "Ya, I heard that before". He was I believe, Ron Jeremy. A good observation if I do say so myself.

The way back to the hotel was via a sub shop, at 3 AM to get dinner, I guess. In walks a young woman with nipples sticking so far out of her dress she stops the whole place. Everybody, everybody, stopped and looked at her she went, immediately, into the girls room. The sub shop started up again, me ordering a cup of coffee. We found a cab and made it back to the hotel.

Remember now I was telling you, we had a room with one large bed, and a roll up, and it was now time to decide in favor of sleeping with a man I didn't love, or come up with a better idea, and in knowing that moment I decided that sleeping upon the roll –up could give good dreams.

Next day, after a quick three hours sleep, back again upon the bus, driving, driving in a driving rainstorm, towards "the falls" with beer for breakfast, no less.

Anyways, I played the first seven in pretty much one under fives when again, I pulled up lame. Sat it out, again, same place, same ideas, same results. Boarding the bus back I thought I'd been gone a week and a half, not two days. The ride was unbelievable, a man calling himself "the bishop" granted confessions to those interested in the toilet of the bus. Some fellow was making an

hour or so into the best way to scream "brown eye", while an apparently mentally challenged fellow

spend about an half an hour turning on, and then off, his overhead light. Upon occasion, someone would throw a beer can, or ice, for no apparent reason.

At about the end of another day or two, the bus arrived at where we'd got on, and I got off.

Today's about one week and one day later, and just now I'm feeling better, thank you.

Ah, golf.

June 8th, '98