14 April, 2014

games played with sticks and balls

last night, after i blogged the darkness in my soul, i decided that the thing to do would be to step away from the computer and join my fabulous roommate in his dungeon where he was watching golf. i don't watch golf. why in the hell would i watch golf? why does anybody? but i needed some human company, particularly if it involved non-destructive humans i could count on, and so i took my residual wine and my residual tea and joined him on the couch.

the poor man. all he ever wanted of the evening was to sit in peace and watch privileged white men in polyester pants whack the ball around the course. what he got, instead, was an embittered cranky polish woman with a big mouth who proceeded to heckle everything from the men's names ("bubba? who the fuck names their child bubba? even as a nickname! southern US, you need to stop this shit right now!"), to their facial hair ("douchebag fort mcmurray facial hair, and you tell me he's SWEDISH? he's an embarrassment to the Scandinavian Way!"), to their pants (those are terrible pants! the blue, it is a smurf blue - one should never wear smurf blue once one is out of diapers!), to the outfits worn by the caddies ("white coveralls are so fetching…"). i made fun of everything, occasionally realising i needed to shut up and then utterly failing to do so for more than a minute at a time.

bubba won, and when he came off the course into the waiting arms of his tall blonde athletic wife and adorable toddler, the man was BAWLING. this is the point at which i lost it, because what the hell? mfr scoffed and said the man had just won the most prestigious golf trophy. yeah, golf. trophy. as in: golf. as in: a game played with sticks and balls. then i realised that large amounts of money were involved (like, some serious big ass moneys, people! for golf. ) and that made me swallow bubba's emotional outburst a little more… but then, when i waxed cynical about that, i suddenly realised that what i was doing with my big, loud, uncontrollable mouth, was kinda ruining the moment for mfr. so i left.

i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes. i try to apologise when that happens.

but really: golf?!


Tom said...

Well, it takes all sorts, so they say. Just as well we're not all made from the same mould. :)

Zhoen said...

Watching Goof beats LDS Conference, all I'm sayin'.

Boring isn't the worst of sins.

polish chick said...

tom, yes, i think golf is boring but i don't judge others for liking it (much) (ok, maybe a little) (but only in good fun) (for me, at any rate). after all, i like all sorts of weird-ass boring things. it's more the fact that i voluntarily went to join him at it and then proceeded to make him miserable (well, he laughed, but still…)

zhoen - when you've had a lot emotional ups and downs and homicidal moments, boring can even be good. but yeah, good point. don't know if i'll ever get THAT desperate!

Gorilla Bananas said...

Haha! Watching golf with you would be one of the great pleasures of my life! And if you think 'Bubba' is a silly name, there was a golfer whose first name was 'Fuzzy'. No joke, just google 'Fuzzy Zoeller'!

polish chick said...

gorilla bananas, thank you! and also: hi, welcome, welcome. i've always wanted an intelligent simian to join my coterie of faithful readers!