Man Moments

I was having one of those existential ‘man moments’. I was on my first date with a girl I really liked, and we were deep in a game of miniature golf. Now normally I don’t care if I win when playing against a woman, if she beats me it doesn’t affect my manliness. I mean, I know I’m a masculine, manly, man and if she-were-a-guy-I-could-kick-her-butt; however this girl was really teasing me every time she sank a putt.

"Oh Rob, looks like I win this hole too. Doesn’t that make us tied?" She giggled.

I smiled through my pain, "Sure does Kathy, well played." I did have the consolation of watching her ambulate to the next hole in those tight little shorts. I tried to keep my pulse from racing along at the sight. I think she actually wiggled her buns a bit more when she won a hole. Hmm… yes she really did. I was sure to stand behind her as she bent over to place the ball on the tee. Yes, definitely what dreams are made of.

Two holes to go and all tied up. Should I cruise the rest of the way and enjoy the sight of her sassy little walk when she wins, or would she think less of me if she won in a ‘walk away’ so to speak? On such decisions relationships are won or lost.

We had contrasting styles during play. She would always take the no risk shot (around the Windmill) while I always went for the more daring, manly approach – through the spinning vanes of the Windmill. If I succeeded I would win the hole, if my high risk shot bounced off the swirling blades, I would lose. We had an interesting rivalry going. I decided to stick with my strategy and just be more patient when lining up my high-risk, manly shots. If I did so, and she took all the easy but roundabout shots I should still win.

We ended up still tied by the end of the seventeenth hole, and yes there was definitely less wiggle in her walk when she didn’t win. Now was the moment of truth. The final hole was full of whirring, tilting and spinning obstacles, a mini golf nightmare of epic proportions. HAHA on this hole, EVERY SHOT was high risk, so her play-it-safe method wouldn’t help. I however, was in my element!

She went first, took her time and placed a perfect shot right through THE MERMAID’S undulating hips. How the hell did she do that? The sweat was beading on my brow, I concentrated totally, just as hard as I do when I put tubes into various orifices on my patients, and was rewarded when my shot zoomed perfectly past the undulating hips of the sexy wooden mermaid. My ball landed inches from Kathy’s.

My lord, did she have an extra wiggle as she walked over to her ball? Did she always move her hips like that as she lined up her shot? Does she really have the best buns in the known universe??? My mind was reeling as she sent her ball past that weird flower pot, banked it against the wooden beam and left it only two inches from the hole!

I had to somehow get her buns off my mind. I remembered a technique my old medical school professor told me about, a way to perform effectively when in critical situations. "Stress comes from within," he told us, ‘And  to overcome it, you must convince yourself that it means little, minimize the the urgency, take a deep breath, then you can easily handle the situation."

To me it always seemed he wanted us to give ourselves a little pep talk, but I have found over the years it keeps me calm in difficult and tense situations. "Her buns don’t matter, her butt is not that great anyway, I see better buns everyday at the hospital." Somehow my self talk wasn’t working. ‘Oh yea Rob,’ I thought to myself,  ‘it can’t work if you are still staring at them as she walks away.’ Gawd. 

I had to shoot but it was difficult when in my mind’s eye all I could visualize was her seductive walk. Clunk, right off the flower box and into the side of the boundary. I had left myself with a very difficult shot.

"Oh poor Rob" she cooed, as she grinned sweetly and bent over to remove a small candy wrapper that had blown in front of her ball. She was facing me, and I was treated to a vision of an extraordinarily attractive cleavage. Oh my lord. Now my mind was totally blown. She expertly putted the ball the required two inches and it dropped into the hole. She jumped with joy and all the interesting female parts of her momentarily defied gravity, then jiggled with a life of their own when she landed and they settled into place.

I had to concentrate now. If I make the shot we finish tied, if I miss I lose. It was a difficult shot and I was rattled.

"Come on Rob, you can do it!" she said as she giggled, bouncing on her toes like a cheerleader. Then it came to me. The perfect stress reliever in this situation. It was not a golf hole I was shooting at – no – my task was to shoot the little golf ball into that delicious cleavage! I imagined her leaning over the hole, the beautiful dark cleft  a guide to the perfect shot. I smiled and relaxed as I lined up the shot. A perfect stroke, the ball rolling lazily but unerringly toward the hole. The ball slowed as it approached, almost stopping, and then, as if an angel had gently pushed it, rolled slowly into the hole.

"Gosh Rob, that was a tough shot, I never thought you could do it." I saw a new respect in her eyes now.

"Well Kathy, I had to use my super secret relaxation technique."

"Oh what is it?"

I had to smile and she raised her eyebrows as she grinned back.

"I think I’ll have to tell you that when I get to know you a little better.."