When last we left....

When last we left, our heroes had departed the Waffle House, traveling south towards Destiny. I took my first turn at the wheel and quickly earned my stripes by not killing us all on the back roads of South Carolina. A job well done. I was the bane of several cars and trucks along the way, but to hell with all of them, "I ain't in no hurry...." To be honest, this was one of the most enjoyable moments of the trip. The sun was shining, my belly was full of waffle house goodness, the kids were pounding beers in the back, and a line of cars was flashing their lights and flipping me off as I drove 30 mph in a 45 mph zone. Just try to pass me, you $%#@ers!!!

As we drove closer to Myrtle, we expected to see signs of the wild fires which crippled the area a few days before. We'd all seen some really terrible footage on the news, but there was no real evidence from the road. No Burned trees, no smoke, no haze....nothing. Interestingly, when we woke up the next morning, the haze was so thick we could barely see out of our condo, and the entire area smelled like a camp fire. It seemed for our journey down to Myrtle, good fortune was on our side.

We pulled into Myrtle somewhere in the early afternoon (time had already lost meaning), checked into Myrtlewood, listened to some erotic stories courtesy of the XM Playboy Channel, wandered around Maritn's Golf Superstore, then settled down by the pool to sip a few beers and wait for everyone else to trickle in. A few of us kicked around the idea of hitting the driving range, but that just seemed like too much effort. The sun was shining, and we had beers.

Ciarlo showed up a couple hours later, and after he relaxed for a few minutes, the two of us rolled over to the supermarket to pick up a few cases of beer. "what do you think....4 cases?" "yeah, that should last us a couple of days."

More like a couple of hours.

In Myrtle 2008, Brett scheduled a practice round for Wednesday. For Myrtle 2009 however, he felt this day would be better served as a travel day - allowi

ng people to trickle in on their own schedule. In effect, Wednesday was a practice round - just not for golf. Not only did we finish the 4 cases of booze, but when Lich showed up with a 5th case - we drank that sum'bitch too. Things started out nice and easy. We cleaned up, ordered pizza, and sipped down some booze. Brett presented Moden with the championship trophy, engraved to preserve his back to back championships for all eternity. Moden treated this award with quiet dignity. . . before filling it with beer, exclaiming the cup was as wide as our mom's va-jay-jay.

Around this point the night took a turn. Brett, Ciarlo and Bos disappeared (presumably to gain a competitive edge by stealing a couple extra hours of sleep). Moden was attempting to lead a charge to Broadway @ the Beach. Sheabone and Troy were just up to no good. The rest of us decided to play a game of speed quarters, and after some debate on the actual rules, played a few rounds. About a half hour into the game, the decision was made (passive voice used because I can't remember who belongs to this dumb ass idea) to place a half shot of Seagrams Seven in the middle of the circle. From here on, the penalty was no longer taking a sip of beer, but rather a half shot of whiskey. Barsczc was the early recipient of the whiskey, as the coins just weren't bouncing his way. I then made the classic blunder of leaving a drinking game to call home. I talked with my girlfriend for a few minutes, and returned to face whatever penalty was coming to me. I took a couple of penalty shots with a cocky attitude, saying "yeah, whatever, you still can't see me!" Well, that's the thing about quarters - One minute you're 10 for 10, but a few bad bounces and things can reverse quickly. After the 4th consecutive loss, the assorted shots started to take their toll. While I felt coherent enough, my motor skills were certainly on the decline. I may have started out the game with a shooting percentage around .900, but I finished up around .200. Not only that, but Barsczc made the comment "look at Saps...he can't even talk!" From that moment, every time I opened my mouth, I heard Barszcz laughing.

Me: Youguys don'teven....youdon't......

Barsczc: HA!

Me: Dammit!!!!!

I took a few mins to walk outside and collect myself. Once outside, away from the chaos, I had a chance to really focus on things. . . and I noticed that the time was well past midnight, and not only could you hear us yelling at each other, but the sound of coins bouncing could be heard throughout the complex. I was shocked that 1) no one had complained and 2) no one had called the cops. We were literally yelling as loud as we could, with the doors and the windows wide open! I do not think we were the condo favorites.

I walked back into the condo to the sound of roaring laughter. The game had ended, and Barsczc was no more. In his place stood an inquisitive ape eating a banana. I made yet another mistake by venturing too close in an attempt to take a picture. Never approach an animal while feeding! The ape must have felt threatened, because within a matter of seconds he charged at me. I urinated myself out of fear, and then tried to flee - but it was too late. The ape was on top of me faster than Lich on a sailor. My only thought - will I recover in time to play tomorrow....

More Shenanigans to follow - Round 1 & Night 1 next!!

~Saps