It was brought to my attention the other day that I had forgotten a very comical event that had happened on Monday.
While out on a job site (i.e. a very nice golf course in West Saint Paul) I stopped to take a breather and wait for a group of middle aged men to finish teeing off. I'm staring down at my drawing and double checking that I have indeed taken any and all measurements for a set of tiered retaining walls when I see a man in a bright shirt come staggering toward me. He takes a seat... pretty much on top of me.
Okay, I know that there are many a places of occupation where golfing on a week day is considered the best way to pitch a sale, but this man was drunk. D.R.U.N.K. Drunk.
He proceeds to ask me if I'm doing a survey. I reply no, I am measuring for some landscaping. I then decide that I may as well make the best of this and humor him with some small talk. I ask, "What the heck are you doing out here on a Monday?! Don't you work?!"
He slurs, "Working is overrrrateddd. Besides, I'm geetttting paid right now", the smell of alcohol washing over my face in torrents.
He sits quietly for a while, my theory is that he momentarily passed out.
His friend walks over and tells me to disregard this man to which the man replies, "She's doing a survey!"
Then he stumbles back over to take a shot at teeing off.
The guy I was working with came over and asked me if I knew the guy to which I replied no. He then said, slightly under his breath, "He was probably trying to look down your shirt!" I agreed.
Just at that moment I turned to see the man swing, hit and fail miserably. They are probably still looking for his ball to this day, which flew straight out into the trees about 90 degrees from the direction it was supposed to go.
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