Williamsburg Golf

June 26, 2010; noon: We spent the morning immersed in a never-ending sales pitch about timeshares.  It should have only taken an hour to get the $65 incentive for considering a purchase.  It took two. 

By the time we were free, the temperature was nearing 105 and humidity was making it worse.  Hair curled by sweat at the napes of our necks.  Beads of perspiration gathered around temples. 

Put put looked appealing until we were on the course, gathered around Hole 3, trying to convince Ya to hit the ball into the hole. 

Ya had already realized that the ball didn't exactly roll right to the holes when he hit it, so he resorted to kicking and then throwing the ball towards the target. 

Chi was a golfing star, sinking her ball in 1-2 strokes each time.  She shot ahead of us and was all the way to the Ninth Hole, when I made her pause and wait for the rest of us who were floundering between holes Four and Five.  When I let her continue, she then got too confident - or maybe she was trying to speed up to get out of the heat - and blasted her putter into her ball so hard that it shot into the shrubbery.

 It took ten minutes to locate the ball and each of us was scratching from the search.