About a hundred feet later, another ball comes out of nowhere, almost hitting me again, and this time it was a line drive. I slam on the brakes, look behind me, and a couple hundred feet back, there are three fat, middle-aged fucks standing on the tee.
"WHAT!? TWO FUCKING TIMES!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?"
One of the guys raises his hand in acknowledgement, not apparently of any wrongdoing, but almost as though he's waving from the prow of a passing boat. For all I know, this fat-fuck is taking credit, not blame.
"THAT'S ALL!? THAT'S ALL YOU'RE GONNA GIVE ME!? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING!?"
These douchebags do nothing, which is hard to interpret, but I can definitively say that there's no additional apology. Still, I feel like I've fulfilled the requirements of manhood, so I start riding away, but not without a few parting shots.
"THE FIRST TIME I CAN LAUGH IT OFF, BUT TWO FUCKING TIMES? YOU SUCK!"
The tee box is on the left, the green is to the right; the X on the left is the first shot, the X on the right is the second.
I feel pretty good about my performance, like I'd shown myself to be the better man, but that only lasts a couple seconds. Then I start worrying that I didn't do enough. It was like when you leave a tip, then pause with your wallet in your hand, and try to decide if you should have left more. I worry that cussing someone out from 150 feet away is maybe not that manly after all.
I also worry that yelling "You suck!" was a bad idea, because if these are some tough-guys who tried to hit me on purpose, they'd find it hilarious that the dumbass thought it was an accident, and that his idea of a comeback was "you suck". Meanwhile, if he does suck, and it was accidental, then maybe I'm an asshole (although the dipshit should still owe me an apology). Which is worse, being a pussy or an asshole? It's a difficult question, and due to my great fear of looking like a coward, my answer is to stop and stare them down. Again, this would have been really macho, if they weren't 200 feet away.
These fucking douche-bags are still just standing on the tee; in my mind, they're probably having a laugh. This makes me even more pissed off, so I decide to escalate things, to get gangster on them. I wait on the side of road, which is just 20 feet from the fairway, straddling my bicycle. If they want to act tough, they can come on down.
My strategy is to let one of these assholes hit his next shot, then to steal the ball and ride away as fast as possible. I wait for a couple minutes, still staring at them, but they're all too scared to leave the tee box. These fucking pussies have no idea who they just lost to.
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