Men spit. Almost all spitting men are courteous, but once I was walking down the fairway enjoying the scenery when… Bammo! I was hopping over incoming projectile saliva. Keep an eye out.
If you’re playing with three men and you don’t see one, don’t look for him. He’s in the woods – and he’s not looking for his golf ball. I found this out the hard way. “Hey, where’s Bob??” Oh.
Speaking of woods, there may come a time when even you, who may have never considered it, might need to use Nature’s Ladies Room. This is already an unpleasant experience, but I have three pieces of advice to make it bearable:
1) Face uphill – I made this mistake once, it wasn’t pretty,
2) There isn’t tile but there IS poison ivy – a mistake I haven’t made and don’t intend to. “Leaves of Three, leave them be.”
Lastly, there’s a special, unwritten but universally known rule which covers what a man must do if his drive doesn’t reach the women’s tee box. I can’t explain it here – this is a Family Friendly blog – but be forewarned.