Have you ever been to a craft fair? You know, the ones in hotels, shopping centres, schools? Lots of women wandering around looking at locally crafted jewellery, handbags, beauty products, pottery, hats and all that stuff.
Ever notice the husband? The guy who wanders around a few feet behind the wife, head bowed, lost in his own little world, clearly wishing he was anywhere else. Yea, him. Well, he's probably dreaming about golf and this is her payback for all the hours he spends on the course. He knows it, too, which is why he says so little, and spends so much time trying to identify where the fabric in the carpet comes from and wondering why so much of the fluff comes up and sticks to his shoes.
He's a hard animal to distract. If you interrupt him he'll look at you like you just interrupted his swing... which you probably have. And if you bump into him he'll react angrily although he's not quite sure where he is.
Well, one of those guys walked past my wife's stand last weekend, noticed the pile of Hooked books and stole one.
So I have this to say to the thief: firstly, thank you for thinking that my book was worth stealing - I'm honoured; and secondly, may all your tee shots find trouble, may all your putts lip out and may all your rounds be in the 100s. That pretty much covers it.
To everyone else, may all your swings be good ones. And if you want to buy a copy of Hooked
, you'll find it in all good Irish book stores (as opposed to the bad ones), or you can get it from dear old Amazon (links are top right).