He said he would show me how to
swing as he departed. He was so sure of himself but his boldness attracted me.
He didn’t notice my companion. I knew he had his choice of women younger than
me. The waitresses and maître
d’ were all attractive and younger. He
was the rooster of his hen house. Why would he be interested in me, a middle
I drove home wet with the card
throbbing in my purse. The card with my tee time appointment was the first
thing I always saw when opening it. I took it out a number of times and looked
closely to examine his handwriting of long, bold strokes.
I told myself I wasn’t going but
Vixen knew better. She directed me to the mall where I bought new underwear and
golf clothes. Instead of the pants and tank top worn prior I got a flared red golf
skort a white short sleeved blouse, a sun visor hat and sun glasses to keep my flitting
Even with the new attire I convinced
myself I was going to skip the lesson and wear them with the next ladies golf
game. The day of the lesson I showered and before dressing announced to my
husband as he left for work I was taking a golf lesson. That was when I knew I
was going. I needed him to tell me not to go.
Instead he encouraged me but
became suspicious as I dressed seeing me don my new underwear.
He looked back at me as he went
through the door but made no comment. I took his silence as tactic permission.