THE CALL

I got invited to Stag Day today. For you bitches, Stag Day is basically "men's day" at the club. A bunch of good old boys get together to hit the long ball and talk about beer and women. Throw in a couple of birdies, beers and one irons and you have a complete day. For guys who are married, like myself, we talk about cooking and cleaning the house. Sometimes, we talk about Housewives of B'ville and the Next Super Duper Model Show.

Never-the-less, we are always aware that our wives can call at any moment and interrupt the day before it begins. Take tonight for instance. I was talking to a couple guys from my team about nothing in particular, when I got THE CALL! They were smart enough to crawl into a corner and secretly contact their better halves, before me, to update them on their progress. I advised that I would be contacting my wife to "check in" before I got THE CALL to check up on me. Since I was a good boy all day, and wasn't wasted or anything, I thought I was all good. Sure enough, while I was dialing, my phone rang from ... the wife. Duh.. duh.. duh!!!! She read my mind and beat me to the call!

Sweetness was all I heard. " Your daughter is headed to sleep. Should I expect you home soon?" Thoughts raced through my head. "Shit", I thought to myself. Just missed! I have only been gone since noon and here it is 8:30 at night. Not too long. Since golf takes, what, 8 hours for a round of 18 in a tourney, shouldn't I be safe? Then it struck me, I have a rational thinking wife who probably thought out the time frame. Five hours max. I overshot. I didn't pull the trigger soon enough! Why didn't I marry a dummy with a flat head and no teeth? I should leave while I can and arrive before my beautiful child goes to bed. I should score what points I have left so that I have a chance of playing again in the future! NO! BE A MAN! ORDER ANOTHER DRINK AND TAKE YOUR TIME! What did I do? I left.

Supposedly, it is a lot like training a dog. Teach them quick, be stern and they will learn. At least this is what all the divorced men that I know tell me. Tell your beatch to wait at home, bare footed and cleaning. Come home and take care of business and play golf when you want to. I know... You don't have to tell me. This is a pipe dream. Even though my beautiful wife did not demand it, I was at the door, waiting for my bowl of food and a doggy treat within fifteen minutes. My tail was tucked between my legs. I survived! I live to play another stag day..