He jumped out of bed and ran straight to the pool fence, screaming like a seventh-grade girl. On top of that, he was naked. People were laughing so hard they were practically throwing up.
-- Roger Schwarzkopf, Greenfield, Ind.
* * *
IN THE SWIM IN MYRTLE
We're all from the Pittsburgh area originally. We go to Myrtle Beach and play golf all day, then have a few drinks and tell stories all night. The trip has been going on for 15 or 16 years.
About eight years ago, one of our guys had lost a sizable amount in the betting the day before and was looking for a way to make some of it back without a lot of risk. We were at the TPC Myrtle Beach, where we had just played the last three holes in a complete downpour. We set up on the porch, looking out over the course. Someone suggested that if the guy who lost the money swam across the pond to the 18th green, we'd all kick in some cash. He thought about it for about two seconds before saying yes.
He went down to the water with my brother-in-law, stripped to his underwear and started swimming. We were all watching from the porch when one of the waiters came by and asked if we knew there were two alligators in the pond. The cook said it was true, too. But our guy got across the pond all right, and we all had a laugh.
He ran up onto the 18th green and started dancing around with the flag, like he'd made a hole-in-one. We were taking pictures and laughing when an assistant pro came up and said, "What group is this again?" We told him. He said, "If you come back here again, you'd better book under a different name." We have, and we did!
Was the pro angry about the swimming? Not exactly. It was more like he was ... disgusted.
-- Fred Stout, McLean, Va.
* * *
THE TROUBLE WITH CELL PHONES
We drive down to Myrtle Beach from Maryland every year. Usually there are eight of us. One night a few years ago, we'd had a few drinks after the round, and at dinner we were talking about our county commissioners and wanted to know the answer to a question about one of them. One guy said his wife would know, so he called her, and she answered the question.
When he was done, he just put the phone down and said, "So what are we doing tonight, guys?" A few of us started chanting "Strip club, strip club!" We were all pretty happy, and we ended up at a place called the Pink Pony.
Unbeknown to us, the guy's wife was still on the phone! She listened in for about an hour and a half until the battery died. She heard everything.
The next morning, during breakfast, his wife called. "So, how was the strip club last night?" she asks. You should have seen his face. He says, "Um ... good?"
We have a rule, like in Vegas: "Everything that happens in Myrtle, stays in Myrtle." Now we've added, "And you have to hang up the phone."
--Joe Galdieri, Huntingtown, Md.
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