Saved by the Rain

It was a dark and stormy day. A tee shot rang out in the distance. I think you know where I'm going with this. Yup, that's right. My game got rained out today.

I had a 12:12 tee time at a certain local course, where I hadn't played since last year. Seri and two of her Korean gal pals were joining me. The course has an afternoon special going where you can get $10 off the fees, including cart, from noon till twilight. This didn't help me, since I was walking, but Seri and her friends all rode, so they got a bargain. Except for one of Seri's buddies who didn't speak English and got charged the regular rate. Seri's bilingual buddy had to translate the problem for the pro shop cashier, and I suspected he may have accidentally-on-purpose charged her the regular rate. In my past travels, as a tourist in China and other Asian countries, I would routinely get ripped off because I didn't speak the language, so I have no doubt it happens here in the US to non-English-speakers. But, at least Seri's other friend caught the "mistake" and they honored the correct price.

But I digress. I was talking about the rain. When I left the house, the forecast said there was a 30% chance of rain. When I checked the weather radar, there was a big green blob on the screen but it looked several hours away. I had done everything I could to prevent the rain. I brought my golf umbrella, which is usually a foolproof talisman against the rain. I left my sunglasses at home, which is typically a sure-fire harbinger of sunshine. To be on the safe side, I even wore my waterproof golf shoes and rainproof jacket.

As we stood on the first tee, the sky was covered in grey clouds that looked like someone let the stuffing out of a dirty old comforter. Seri and her Korean gal pals chatted incessantly, in their native language. Seri remarked that I couldn't understand Korean, but to no avail. They couldn't have cared less. I told Seri, "Don't worry, I don't mind the talking." Which was totally true. Sometimes I play better with the white noise of foreign chatter in the background.

After I blasted my first tee shot 185 yards, got on in 2, and two-putted for par, they seemed to quiet down. At least till the next hole, a par 3, where I teed off first and missed the green. They all made the green and the talking started up again, while they pretty easily made their pars. By the third hole, I could see where this was going. Seri's buddies were the kind of social but lethal Korean golfers I've seen before. These ladies, with their tech-fabric jackets and big-brimmed visors and gold-embroidered golf shoes, they are on the flashy side and strut around fairways like life is some big picnic. And it probably is for them, if they're anything like Seri and they golf nearly every day and don't have to work since their husbands are working in Korea and sending money to them so they can take care of the kids going to American schools. (Not that I am jealous. I mean, maybe the golfing daily part. But I would never want to be separated from hubby for even a day.) These kind of women act as if golf is just something to do while gossiping, and they hit short drives, but always seem to make par or bogey just out of natural habit.

One of these women was the same one Seri had told me about, who recently ruined Bea's game by too much talking, to the point where Bea blew up and scolded her with some harsh words. Afterwards, Seri had to make at least 10 phone calls to both parties just to do damage control. I suspected that I might encounter a similar fate, though I would never scold any of Seri's friends (nor would they understand me), but I might end up getting mightily annoyed. So as soon as I spotted raindrops on the flags, I started thinking about exit strategy.

After I triple-bogeyed the third hole, the rain thankfully became as incessant as the chatter, and I told Seri I was going to take a rain check. "The last time I played in the rain, I got sick for two weeks," I told her. And it was true. But she didn't seem that disappointed that I was quitting early. I think it was easier for her to not worry about me feeling left out.

As I made tracks for the clubhouse, the rain started to pour, and I was glad I'd brought that umbrella. The clubhouse was full of golfers waiting out the weather. I went up to the cashier, and I said, "You know how they say whenever you get your car washed, it rains the next day? Well, I washed my clubs last night." Which was true. I actually did give my clubs their annual scrub-down last night. And now I know never to go golfing after washing my clubs.

And I also learned that it's probably best to not to join Seri when she's playing with her socially lethal golf crew, because I can't always count on being saved by the rain.