John wiped the sweat from his brow as he waited patiently for the older married British couple that he had been paired up with to meticulously line up their respective drives on the seventh hole. The problem with going to a public golf course as a single player was that you never knew who you might have to join up with, and today's less than fortuitous matching was making for a long, hot day.
The woman, Fiona, a blissfully cheery duffer, had yet to hit a shot that had remained airborne for thirty yards, but she continued to approach each shot as if the club championship was on the line. The husband, Archie, huffed and puffed with each ground ball that Fiona hit, but it wasn't as if he was competing for the British Open Claret Jug himself. John sighed to himself and decided that he might as well just grin and bear it and brace himself to a long day. They were pleasant enough, and their quirky cockney accents provided some audible entertainment which partially offset their hideous playing. And, after all, it was better than what he had just endured over the last week or so.
John's divorce settlement had been finalized a few days before, and he desperately needed some rest and relaxation, so he got in his car and drove straight from the New Jersey courthouse directly to South Carolina for a few days of badly needed 'me' time. It still disgusted him that the woman to whom he had been married could admit to numerous extra-marital affairs, and he still had to pay alimony out the wazoo.
But, he decided, if one was going to be bitter, it was better to be bitter in Carolina with a golf club in one hand and a beer in the other. Speaking of, just where was that beer cart anyway? He craned his neck to search the low country land for adult beverage relief. He was stuck hundreds of yards from the clubhouse with two hackers and no beer. Patience was running thin, indeed. A man can only endure so much torture on a golf links without a beer in his hand.
Fiona stopped her wiggles and adjustments and contortions and ultimately let loose with a mighty, prodigious swing that resulted in her worst attempted drive of the afternoon, the ball trickling forlornly just a few yards off of the ladies' tee. Undaunted, she turned to her husband, whose face was now the shade of the scarlet tee boxes, and confidently exclaimed, "Oh, Archie, I finally know what I'm doing wrong."
Archie glared at his chunky wife, his rage barely contained, yet maintained that infamous English understated composure and uttered simply, "Well, then, Fiona, STOP IT!"
John peered through the sun's glare and sighed once more, as Fiona scurried after her ball to try a mulligan. Just where the fuck was that beer cart?
In the distance, Soo Yun drove up the sixteenth fairway, driving away for the final time from the lecherous yells of the drunken, obnoxious foursome who had essentially harassed her all day. The businessmen apparently thought the price of the exorbitant greens fees and ten-dollar tips came with the inherent understanding that the beautiful young Korean woman would attend to more than just their refreshment cravings, repeatedly propositioning Soo Yun, who tolerated them only because she had made over a hundred dollars from that foursome alone.
That was the love-hate conundrum that Soo Yun had come to accept about this summer gig after her own contentious divorce. She was making big-time, tax-free tips without succumbing to exotic dancing or the like, but there were days such as this when she felt treated as if she were a common wench, bringing alcohol to the warriors who expected carnal favors in return for their inflated gratuities. She was glad her shift was coming to an end, even thought she had already pocketed close to three hundred dollars. She sighed, her ample chest heaving beneath her tight shirt with the club's logo emblazoned strategically on her right tit, and her name badge on the left. Weren't there any gentlemen left anymore?
Privately, Soo Yun also resented the club owner's insistence that she wear the name badge that displayed her Korean birth name. Soo Yun had been adopted by an American couple when she was very young, and they gave her the family nickname, Nina, which she embraced and referred to herself in virtually all encounters. However, once the club owner saw her initial employment application, while ogling her petite body framed with a pair of disproportionately full breasts, he hired her with the stipulation that she would be identified by her Korean name on her name badge. His reasoning was that the leering golfers would find the allure of the seductive Asian name more exotic, thus evoking more conversation, and ultimately, more beer cart revenue. She reluctantly had to concur that he was probably right, but truth be told, Nina's smoldering, exotic good looks and hot body could have sold ice cubes to Eskimos in a blizzard, regardless of her name.
Nina made one last turn towards the adjacent seventh hole as she spied Fiona wailing away at her fourth attempt to merely reach the beginning of the fairway. She saw the woman's agitated husband standing behind her, waving his arms and screaming at her, and Nina smiled. They looked harmless enough. She eased the cart towards the couple when she spotted John in his cart coming from the tee. Hmmm, Nina thought, where did this cutie come from?
John was so relieved at the long-awaited arrival of the beer cart itself that at first he didn't even notice the driver. He had recently been so disgusted with the whole protracted divorce proceedings that he had been silly enough to have sworn off any thoughts of amorous encounters with women for awhile. When he laid eyes on Nina, in her tight, yellow cotton blouse and khaki mini-skirt, accessorized by white ankle socks and sneakers, her silky raven hair up in a taut ponytail, he immediately realized the inherent flaw in that short-sighted mindset.
Archie waved off Nina's approach, so she glided her cart back to John. Their eyes met and, at once, they smiled together in that unspoken gesture of instant mutual attraction, and held each other's gaze for a few seconds, each of their frustrations temporarily forgotten. It was John who broke the silence first, his green eyes twinkling in the sunlight as Nina felt a flash of heat surge directly to her loins . "Boy, oh boy, am I glad to see you."
"You're not kidding," Nina thought to herself as she climbed out of the cart, her skirt rising on her tanned thighs.
"Are you a thirsty boy?" she teased, holding her hands to her hips. John nodded his head animatedly and held his hands up, cocked at the wrists, and let his tongue unravel from his mouth, mimicking a dog begging for a treat. The length of his tongue did not go unnoticed by Nina, as she giggled delightedly, turning on the flirting as she did with all of her male customers, yet this time it was discernibly different. This time, her flirting was sincere, her attraction immediate. Goodness, she thought, was that wetness in my crotch? Oh, my.
John ordered two Amstel Lights and sucked half of the first one down in one big gulp, as he and Nina struck up an easy conversation as she followed him up the fairway, their carts side-by-side, and they chuckled at Fiona and then cheered as she finally got a shot airborne, that, of course, careened over the green directly into a water hazard. "It is so nice to have a man actually treat me like a lady", Nina thought to herself. At the same time, John was thinking, "What fantastic tits." The age-old dichotomy of the sexes.
