This afternoon I made the trip to Augustine in Stafford for an afternoon round. Augustine is a course I really enjoy, the perfect mix of shotmaking and strategy, and save a few homes leaning over the layout, an excellent track.
The one glaring abnormality to an otherwise enjoyable day was the scene between my approach on 18 and slinging my clubs into my trunk. On the way to put out and conclude the round, from around the corner slinks a truly good-for-nothing (and I speak from experience) cart boy intent on cleaning my clubs, and cleaning out the singles from my wallet. The joker put on a great act, I thought his forearm was going to splinter under the pressure of the elbow grease he was applying to my irons. Poor kid is libel to wake up with a fungus on his hands from the rag he was using to clean my clubs. But I do appreciate how he took five minutes from using the same rag to detail the tires on his Prelude to Turtle-Wax my MP-33s.
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