I wouldn't call my self a golfer, not by a long shot (no pun intended), but years ago I was out with a girl who had her mind set on goony-golf. Well we head on out to the "golf course", I remember I got my first putt through the legs of T-Rex without a hitch, great, so much fun, then the windmill, oooooh! "look it" the ball roll through the windmill. She? Well let's just say she was banging the ball around trying to figure out what to do, I wasn't helping. I actually was getting annoyed that I was talked into this fiasco. It seems I wasn't the only one annoyed that sweaty humid Miami night. As hair-brained hanna tries to putt through the windmill, a blue-shelled land crab the size of a bowling ball comes out from his cave. As the ball rolls in front of him, he swings with his claw and grabs it, he takes off with ball in claw while posturing threats with his other claw. I thought, well maybe hair-brain will freak out seeing the half-mad rabid crab and want to leave to do something more interesting (my plan from the git-go
), nope, she picked up her putter and went after the crab, she looked just as rabid as the crab. By this time parents with their kids had stopped playing and where aghast at the scenario unfolding before their eyes, a land crab who looked to be on steroids holding a golf ball in one claw while running for his life, right behind him a young woman swinging a club trying to whack the life from Mr. Crab. The chase ensued for about ten minutes, going from windmill to T-Rex to haunted house and various themed targets untill Mr. Crab gave up, exhausted he dropped the ball and headed for the nearest hole he could find. That was my first and last experience with a golf ball, a crab and a derranged woman playing nightime goony-golf.