I decided it was time to visit the driving range and get in some January practice. It's been about six weeks since I've struck a ball, so it was important to keep working on the lessons I was given last year.
I was wrapping up my session when three elderly ladies arrived. They stood by the ball dispensing machine and their conversation went something like this:
Mary: Right girls, we should get the large bucket of 120 balls and split them between us.
Deirdre: Excellent idea, how much is it?
Mary: How much is what?
Deirdre: The 120 balls.
Mary: I don't know. I haven't got my glasses. Can anyone see what it says.
Sinead: Here, use my glasses.
Mary: Oh thank you dear. (Pause) It's 8 euro. Alright girls, we need coins.
[The ladies root around for money and Mary places the coins in the machine.]
Sinead: Don't forget the basket Mary. I forgot last time and the balls went everywhere.
[120 balls prove too many for the basket and balls start bouncing down the aisle, proceeded by mass panic, women scattering and frightful embarrassment as balls are collected.]
[The ladies move off to three bays, side by side, and the balls are divided up. Only there's a problem with using the automatic ball dispensers.]
Deirdre: How do I use this? I've never seen one of these before.
Sinead: Oh, do you need my glasses?
Deirdre, snappily: No! I just can't see where to put the balls.
Mary: The balls go in the hole.
Deirdre: I beg your pardon.
Mary: In the slot. The hole at the top. Put your balls in there and they come out automatically.
[A lot of rattling as balls are emptied into the dispensers.]
Mary: Now then, where are we hitting to?
Sinead: Do you need my glasses?
Mary: No dear, I still have them on.
Sinead: Well that explains why I can't see a thing.
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