Now I don't play golf

Every morning I walk the dogs on the hill up behind the golf course. I pass the golfers on my way to and on my way from. On one particular morning I was witness to an episode that while I found it funny I also could really feel for the golfer because like many of us I do not like being told what to do or how to do it.

As I returned from my dog walk I noticed a white fix-it van had slowed down across the street from where the golfers tee off. The driver pulled to the side and was watching the golfers.

"Hey!" he called out. "You keep doing this with you swing. You need to swing more like this." Now, I didn't see the instructional gesture he gave out so generously, but that's okay because I heard the golfer's response and that's all I needed.

"Hey, thanks buddy." It was a veiled gracious tone with a warning of "...okay you can shut up now."

But the driver of the fix-it van didn't get the hint.

"Yah, you could really improve your swing if you could just fix that one part."

"Okay buddy" the golfer replied, more of a warning than anything.

But wait, it gets better.

"Now I don't play golf ..." continued the man in the white repair van.

Now by this time I am ROLLING, but keeping it all inside.

"... I have a friend who's a golf pro." Hahahaha

I turned the corner to avoid any golf clubs being thrown just in case.