Why I Don’t Play Golf Anymore
While golfing, I accidentally overturned my golf cart.
A very attractive golfer, who lived in a villa on the golf course, heard the noise and called out, “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay thanks,” I replied as I pulled myself out of the twisted cart.
She said, “Come up to my villa, rest a while, and I’ll help you get the cart up later.”
I noticed her silky bathrobe was partially open, revealing what appeared to be a very nice figure.
“That’s mighty nice of you,” I answered, “but I don’t think my wife would like it.”
“Oh, come on now ” she insisted. She was so pretty, and very, very persuasive.
I was weak. “Well okay,” I finally agreed, “But I’m sure my wife won’t like it.”
After a couple of Scotch and waters, I thanked her and said, “I feel a lot better now.
But I know my wife is going to be really upset. So I’d better go now.”
“Don’t be silly!” she said with a smile, letting her robe fall slightly more open.
“Stay for awhile. She won’t know anything. By the way, where is she?”
I replied, “Still under the cart, I guess.”