Sand and Rain
by Chip Isle
I was waiting near the second tee box, when my mind began to wonder. Suddenly, I was in the land of palm trees and Coppertone, mai tais and bikinis. I was on island time now. No rush, no worries, no multi foursome backups, no problems. I began to stroll this island with my trusty walking stick, or was it a three iron? I laid my towel on a nice stretch of beach, relaxed and with a deep exhale, let go of all of my stress. With the white sand glittering in the sunlight and a warm breeze blowing off the water, I had stumbled onto a tropic paradise.
A cart, heavily laden with adult beverages, slowly began to circle me. I watch Shark Week, is this how those feeding frenzies begin? Well, when in Rome. Clutching a cold one, I couldn't help but wonder if life could get any better? Faster than you might say rum for my men, it did.
A woman emerged from the water in a yellow swim suit that revealed a golden tan and a hint of tattoo. Standing in front of me, she shook her hair to dry, misting me with the cool and refreshing liquid. Without a word, she sat next to me, took my drink and purred with contentment as the elixir warmed her from within.
My reverie was interrupted by some distant yelling and a cloud burst. "Hey Chip, get out of the sand trap, the sprinklers are coming on. They think by watering them, the sand will grow."
Dripping wet and slightly embarrassed, I asked if I had slept through all eight groups ahead of us on the tee?