Spring Valley Golf Course - I’m not a drinker, just ask Asa, I never really liked beer. Sure, I’ll have a glass of wine, or an Iron Butterfly, or White Russian, or “Fun” on the Beach, or Fuzzy Navel, or other equally “chick” or “fru fru” drinks. But beer, nah. Too bitter. I don’t drink coffee either. I have coffee with my sugar sometimes, though.
This all MAY have something to do with my first experience with beer. It all happened on a bright and sunny day at the golf course I was working at in high school. My job there was to water the Tees mostly, and other stuff, like driving the golf carts at ridiculous speeds and trying to flip your passenger out (not customers of course...)
On that fateful day I brought a long a Sprite can from home and drank most of it in the car on the way. After getting out of my Dodge Colt (nice hatch back stick shift, kinda miss that car) I took the can with me and finished it off and recycled it (oh environment, how we sometimes take care of you).
Then, after everybody else showed up to work on what needed to be done for the day, we all piled into one golf cart, the four of us, it only seated two. I sat in the passenger seat and unconsciously picked up a can in the cup holder.
We found the owner/our boss working on one of the holes. Thinking I still had my Sprite can in my hand, I downed what I thought was the rest of it. Unfortunately, it was not my Sprite can, but a few days old, back washed beer can that someone had put out their cigarettes in.
Let’s just take a step back and consider what is going on in my mouth at this point. Not only was there beer in there, which is something that someone had purposefully let go bad after several months, you know, fermented (juice does that by itself if you leave it in your fridge too long), but used up cancer sticks, and mostly just the ashes of them. One of these two things are so bad for you, that if used correctly, kills you. The other is beer.
Needless to say, I instantly dropped to the ground, writhing in disgust as to what I had done to myself. My boss and co-workers, meanwhile, are looking at me as if I had turned into a goat or something equally strange. In an attempt to get everything out of my mouth and throat, I made that sound we all make when doing the same thing,...which is not the most attractive noise to make.
This is, quite possibly, the worst three minutes of my life (aside from trips to the ER, truck flipping, and pretty much anytime I put my foot in my mouth).
I did, of course, eventually explain what I had done and everyone had a good laugh at my expense, which I deserved, of course.
Moral of the story? Ugh, don’t drink things that are already open and you don’t know what’s in it. But people who drink and smoke? Could you please not just leave those sitting around? You never know what some moron might mistake your old beer can with cigarette butts inside for their own drink and decide to down it.
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