Who says golf can't be fun?

So I almost killed myself last night. You should've been there. It was awesome.

A friend of ours has been begging J to go golfing with him for a while now. He’s not a golfer, but is going on a golf trip at the end of the month, so want to go with J to get some pointers. So, last night, this other couple and the two of us went to a golf course - actually my first experience on a REAL course. Had fun, but we didn't get started until 6:30 and we were slow because J is the only golfer and he had to limp along with us 3 really bad golfers. By 9pm we were only on the 7th hole (really, really slow). And of course at 9pm it is dark. The guys were finishing up on the green and then we were calling it quits...you couldn't see a thing.

Us girls were sitting in the golf carts waiting on them. We were bored....just chillin' in the dark. Oh, and we may have had a few beers. So as soon as they finished, the boys yelled for us to drive around and pick them up so we could head to the club house. Well, as I said, we were bored. So to spice things up a bit we decided to race - you know - golf carts that go like 11mph. I also mentioned it was dark? And the beers? Oh, and I can't see in the dark and I didn't have my glasses on? Just trying to paint you the picture here.

So we start off racing.

I maxed out around 11mph, my competitor’s cart was a tad bit faster at 11.5mph. We were speed demons. All of a sudden my friend’s slightly faster cart shoots off to the right. I probably should've wondered why, but with the wind blowing through my hair at 11mph the only thing on my mind was the open road and this 4-wheeled hog beneath me. Suddenly I find myself about a foot away from a 5 foot drop into the sand trap. Dude. I didn't even have time to hit the brake. In I went - nose first of the golf cart - golf clubs flying everywhere - me hanging on to the steering wheel, legs flapping in the breeze, driving like a bat out of hell at 11mph. In the instant it happened all I could think was - holy mother, I'm going to flip ass over end. Luckily (amazingly), all 4 wheels ended up on the ground. My next concern (when I abruptly went from 11mph to 3mph and left a face print on that stupid plastic windshield) was - oh crap, I'm sinking in the sand. I floored it (we're back up to 7mph now) and shot out of the trap leaving a trail of clubs in my wake and a 2 foot deep rut in the trap.

The adrenaline kicked in as well as the "Oh my god I'm still alive" high hit and I couldn't stop laughing. Hysterically. Ok - I also kind of wanted to do it again. Meanwhile, my husband (who takes golf very seriously, just witnessed everything, and is NOT laughing), is now stomping towards me (with a putter) and is about .2 seconds from blowing up. I'm pretty sure I've never seen his face that red. Did I also mention that this Devil's Sand Trap is located directly in front of the clubhouse? And as we were the last ones out on the course, the only remaining employee is standing outside waiting on us to come in. So - according to my superbly ticked off husband - he has just witnessed the whole thing, and is no doubt banning J from the course for life. Which, I reminded him (and in hindsight probably wasn’t the best time for rationality), had to be a bit of an exaggeration because I couldn't see the sand trap in front of my face until I was riding the holy rails of terror. J did not find this amusing. But to further prove my point, when we checked in the carts, the guy didn't even notice the trail of sand our little cart was leaving behind.

All I can say is, J would not have liked the original plan. I was going to stick a brick on the gas pedal, throw myself into the other cart and just see where mine went.

Good thing we couldn't find a brick.