Yeah, I was golfing the other day with a friend who decided he wasn’t going to speak until spoken to for the entire 4 hours. One word answers at best. Preferred to pretend I was invisible. Makes for interesting golf.
Personally, I don’t get what kind of satisfaction comes from behaving this way. It’s not like he has never done this before. It’s his go-to behavior and the norm for him. But he seems to find pleasure in this none the less.
I try to find the perks and the pros. Like at least I have a body guard incase I pass out from heat stroke. I’m out in the fresh air. And between you and I, I always think to myself “Would it be hugely wrong for me to pop in air pods? A little Crosby, Stills and Nash? Coldplay? A nice soundtrack that he can’t kill with silence or whistling. Maybe if my hair is down, he won’t notice?”
Mental note: I need to research discreet AirPods.
I’m a gluten for punishment, I guess. No one is making me golf with him, after all.
Anyway…I am out there with my sand wedge in one hand and putter in the other working my way over to whatever mess my matte orange ball has landed in. And it happened. Something fell from the sky an onto me.
I look up. Rain? Yeah….no. There were about 6 or 20 birds flying right over me. And since Mr Pleasant was doing his “take the cart and I’ll walk to my ball (so I can further ignore you)” routine….no one witnessed this stellar incident. I would have laughed. I did laugh.
So I’m thinking. That’s pee right? Please. Please….let it be pee (I don’t know why this isn’t equally as offensive as that other option, but it just isn’t.).
I’m busy wiping my hair and my forehead. Not much there really. It seems to be clear, like water. I’m gonna go with the hopeful route on this one. Pee.
I think to myself: I’d like to tell Mr. MoodWithATude about this, but I’m pretty positive his mission to ruin the day will suck every last ounce of humor out of it and forever kill something that was actually pretty funny for me. I keep it to myself and pretty much forgot about it even happening.
That is up until a few moments ago when it popped back into my head and I googled probably one of the dumbest things I have every searched for: “Do birds ever pee on heads?” Yes, I’m owning this part too.
I was deeply saddened to read this:
Birds therefore don’t have a urethra, and don’t pee – all waste leaves via the anus.
The upside to this is that also according to google, I am supposedly destined for good luck and good fortune.
Appreciation for these very silly moments where I can laugh at myself and life, are all too rare. These are life’s little gems. They just are.