I golfed, you guys. Me. On a golf course. With golf clubs.
And for The Fiance, this was sort of the equivalent of Heaven opening up, and me, falling from the sky in the nude, with golf balls for eyes and boobs. And tees for hair. Perhaps a few thousand dollars in my hand, and a one-way ticket - for him - to head south, to the land of year-round golf.
But almost as good is me, on a golf course. In my very own Titleist hat.
I didn't do terrible. I probably did worse. Sometimes when I swung the driver I'd actually hit the ball. And even better? It'd go straight. Or in the air. However, the best I did was a double bogey, and even better is that I know what a double bogey means.
I'm kind of a crappy putter, which is evident in my uncanny ability to lose every round of mini golf I've ever played in my life. But I'll tell you what I can do with supreme precision - drive a golf cart. And, man, that was awesome. Most of the time I was driving in circles looking for my ball, which inevitably landed in the rough, usually in the opposite direction of the green, but still. I golfed. And I didn't hate it. And I just might do it again.
And that, friends, is one step in the right direction toward a happy marriage.