“The girls in the office knew not to bother me on Wednesdays,” said Mac, “unless, of course, someone was dying,” he added.
So when Mac overheard a woman at his favorite golf pro shop ask the clerk what the heaviest club in the set was, he assumed she wanted to know which club would drive the ball the farthest. What he heard next though came about as close to heresy as he could imagine.
Clerk: “So, ma’am, are you looking to replace one of your irons or is this a gift?”
Woman: “Oh, neither,” she said. “I don’t golf.”
Mac leaned in, intent on knowing just what, then, this woman was doing in such a holy place if she, in fact, was not a golfer.
“I’m just so afraid of guns,” she told the clerk, who by now looked extremely puzzled.
“But one whack of this sucker upside the head,” said the woman, lifting the 9 iron she had chosen to purchase, “and it’s adios Mr. Burglar.”
The woman then paid her money and left.
“If she’s going to desecrate a sport,” said Mac angrily as he approached the counter with his own purchase, “why the hell didn’t she just go out and buy a baseball bat?”
And added, as he finalized his own purchase, “This is the precise reason the Augusta National Golf Club doesn’t allow women as members.”