Adam had put in several long weeks working hard to meet a deadline for one of his firm’s latest tenders. To reward himself, he booked a day off to hit the course and bring himself to the brink of full emotional collapse with just one more 4-putt.
Of course, signs of Adam’s descent into pure fury started well before reaching a green. Topping his first swing for the day and feeling the red mist build up in his eyes. He told The Times,
“Why do I do this? Every fkn time I go out, there’s some new problem with my god damn fkn swing. Eyes down, back straight, I’m doing it! Why is my ball always slicing? God damn I fkn hate this shit”
Adam’s FIFO mate was stoked when Adam rang him up for 18. He told The Times,
“I knew old mate was getting pumped at work so it was great he gave himself to lose the will to live on one of Perth’s more challenging courses. I reckon he almost passed out from anger when he didn’t give his 3rd putt enough to get within a metre of the hole”
By the 17th hole, Adam was seen muttering “this is why, this is why, this is why” to himself as he spent another 5 minutes rummaging around in the bush in the hope he hadn’t lost his 10th brand-spankin’ ball for the day.
After the round, Adam needed 7 pints to sufficiently relax and to finally get the image of his final failure to get his drive past the lady’s tee out of his mind.
He returned home a drunk, broken man who could only find solace in the frozen boxes of ovenables in his freezer. Stuffing his face with nuggets & cheese & spinach puffs, Adam reminisced on his day,
“How good. What a day. Did you see my wrap my 7 iron around that tree? That’ll cost a coupla hundred to replace no doubt. Kinda wish I didn’t yell at my mate for taking too long with his practice swings but I think we got passed it after the 6th pint”
Although some would query whether this was the most relaxing activity for Adam some specialists would argue it was just what he needed. A top stress boffin told The Times,
“Sometimes the best way to get it all out is to hit a punching bag. In Adam’s case, his ability as a golfer is the punching bag, and his attempt at playing it is his fist. Sure, he was an emotional wreck for the entire 4 hours and now has a mid-afternoon hangover but hey, beats work I bet”
Luckily for Adam, he managed to fall asleep on his couch before completing his Gumtree post to sell his golf clubs. A chicken-dance he mambo’s to every single time he’s returned from a round of golf.
All that’s left is for Adam to pull his hungover arse out of bed tomorrow and go through an entire day of work while copping flashbacks of every horrendous shank he managed from the day.
Oh, and he’s got a weekend of Ikea flat packing bullshit to attend to. Looks like he might need to schedule another round of golf in.
Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?