Chapter 3: Horse-Bleep Luck

I rolled into Reno late that afternoon and began looking for the visitors' center. It wasn't hard to find and I told them I was looking for a nice hotel on a golf course. Apparently there were only about twenty of them. Maybe I'm exaggerating. I picked one with a familiar name and called to see if they had a room. Yes indeed they did and some coupons for the casino as well as the golf course. I booked four nights on a whim. What the hell, I could find something to do.

I didn't stay up late that first night. The long drive in from Salt Lake City had gassed me and I was barely able to finish my dinner before I headed to my suite and crashed. A dreamless ten hours later I awoke to find it was not quite seven in the morning. No problem. These places operated twenty-four/seven. I showered, shaved, dressed and headed for one of the restaurants for breakfast. I resisted the temptation to have the whole meal deal and settled for juice, fruit, toast, and coffee ... all complimentary to guests I learned.

I checked with the concierge to find out the situation at the golf course. Since I was a single, he recommended I drop over and pick up a threesome. I wouldn't have to wait long he assured me. That was good enough for me. There was a shuttle to the course so I grabbed my clubs and shoes from the Audi and walked to the pick-up location. I didn't have to wait five minutes before the little bus arrived and whisked me off to the clubhouse. As we passed some of the holes I could see I was going to be playing a much better and probably more difficult course than Cheyenne. This would be a test for sure.

I passed the complimentary coupon to the attendant at the pro shop and he recorded my name. I was fairly early for most people and he thought I wouldn't have to wait more than a few minutes. In the meantime, if I'd like to use the putting green he would page me when he had a slot. True to his word, I'd barely had enough time for a dozen medium length putts when he called my name.

I walked to the shop and he pointed toward the first tee.

"You'll be joining the Feiler threesome, Mr. Monahan," he said.

I followed his finger and saw three women standing on the first tee, looking back at the pro shop. Oh shit! I guess I'm going to have to behave myself.

"Good morning, ladies," I said with a smile and my most polite voice. "My name is Terry Monahan and I've been added to your group."

My presence didn't seem to cause any consternation on their part.

"Hi, Terry. I'm Carla, and this is Ramona and Crystal," she said, pointing at the other two women. I was being paired with three forty-something women, all fairly attractive and well dressed. Quickly checking out their clubs, they were also well equipped.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "Which tees will you be playing from?"

"The reds, as usual. Some of us don't hit very far I'm afraid, so we need all the help we can get," Carla chuckled. She appeared to be the spokesperson for the group.

"Okay. I'll play from the whites. I'm just getting back into the game so I don't need to challenge myself too greatly yet."

I was first to tee off, delighted that I hit a decent drive down the right side of the fairway. The ladies advanced to the red tees and began to tee off. Carla was first and smacked a solid drive that landed within feet of my drive. I gave her a quizzical look and she just shrugged.

Crystal was next and she hit a nice clean drive right down the middle. From the swing I guessed she'd spent more than a few hours with the club pro somewhere. Finally, Ramona stood on the tee and proceeded to hammer out a prodigious drive down the left side but showing a pro fade that brought it back to the middle. When it finally came to rest is was easily forty yards past my ball.

"All right you three," I chuckled. "What's the deal?"

I got the fake innocent look from them before they burst out laughing.

"Sorry, Terry," Carla laughed. "We couldn't help ourselves. All three of us play competitive golf in club tournaments. Ramona is our club ladies champion and has won a bunch of trophies."

"Now that is not a surprise when I saw that drive," I said. "I'm in for a challenge I hadn't counted on, I think."

"What's your handicap, Terry?" Crystal asked.

"It used to be a nine, but I haven't played in over two years and not much before that. I'm just getting back to it now."

"Don't worry. It'll come back to you," Carla assured me.

"I hope you're right. I've really been looking forward to getting back to playing regularly.

We had been walking down the first fairway toward Carla's ball. It was a par four, three-seventy from the reds, four hundred and ten from the whites, with traps left and right in front of the green. The fairways were lush and the rough was not too thick.

Carla pulled out a three wood, took a practice swing, then hit a perfect shot right down the middle just in front of the green and avoiding the traps.

"Well done," I said. "You have a great swing. All three of you do."

"We were all taught by the same pro," Ramona said. "We've been playing together for years."

Crystal stepped up and once again hit another dead straight three wood that rolled up on the green, thirty feet from the pin. This was going to be quite an education for me I thought. These ladies could play.

I was next, and chose a five iron, assuming I would hit the ball about the way I did in Cheyenne. I was wrong. I hit the shot solidly but it flew the pin and bounced off the back of the green. Shit! I'd have to adjust if I was going to hit flyers like that.

"Use one club less, Terry," Carla said. "Dry air and altitude."

I nodded. I thought I had compensated for that but obviously not enough. We walked up to Ramona's ball and I watched her take an eight iron out of her bag. Jesus Christ ... a fucking eight iron for a woman on a four hundred yard hole. Is she kidding?

Nope. I knew as soon as I heard the hit that it was plenty of club. It landed twenty feet short and rolled another ten feet, just right of the target. All I could do was shake my head.

"Tell you what," Ramona said with a laugh. "How about you and I tee off from the whites and let the other girls play the reds. That might make it more interesting."

"I'll go for that. At least I won't feel like a pussy," I said, immediately regretting the vulgarism.

It brought a laugh from all three women, so I guess I wasn't in trouble.

I chipped up to within eight feet of the pin, noting some of the feel had come to me late in the Cheyenne game was still with me. Praise be! I sank the putt for a par. A hell of a good start.

Carla chipped short and missed her putt for a par and settled for a bogey five. Both Crystal and Ramona made their pars. It was off to the second hole.

With both Ramona and me now on the whites I think my dick started doing the thinking for me. It wasn't like these were super hot babes but I wasn't going to let some woman out-drive me if I could help it. It was another par four with a nice wide fairway. Why not let out a little extra shaft and pound the shit out of it, my dick thought.

I watched as my drive sliced right over the trees and onto the adjoining fairway. Not what I was intending to say the least. Ramona then finished my humiliation by hitting another perfect slider down the left side and back into the center about two hundred and fifty yards away. Once upon a time that was my Sunday best. I needed to get my shit together or I was going to be embarrassed.

Neither of us said anything as we walked to the red tees and watched the other two ladies hit their shots, both on the fairway. I took off toward my ball wondering if I had any shot at all at the green. When I got there I had to wait a couple of minutes as another foursome was playing through. I finally got out to survey my prospects and didn't like what I saw.

Several trees were in front of the green on my line. They were tall, so I'd have to hit a very high shot hoping it would clear the trees and land somewhere near the green. I remembered Carla's comment about one less club and chose a seven iron. This was one of my favorite clubs but I was asking a lot of it. Well what the hell, give it a shot.

I nailed it. I mean I flat fucking nailed it. In the words of Dan Jenkins ... dead solid perfect. I couldn't see where it landed but I was certain it had cleared the trees. I heard a shout from the girls but there was a jet flying overhead and I couldn't hear what it was about. I picked up my bag and headed for the green on the edge of the other fairway.

I saw three balls on the green but I still didn't know what had happened to mine. Was it one of the three? Not likely.

"Where'd I go," I hollered as I approached the girls.

"What'd you mean ... where did it go. Didn't you see it? I went right in the god damned hole ... on the fly!" Ramona said, shaking her head in amazement.

"You're kidding. I holed it?"

"Absolutely, not even a lucky bounce. Just right down into the hole. I've never seen that before."

"Shit ... and I didn't even get to see it. The shot of a lifetime and I didn't get to see it."

"It was a hell of a shot, Terry," Carla said. "I didn't think you had a prayer of getting it on the green and you holed the sucker out. Amazing!"

I put my bag down and walked up to the pin and looked down. There it was, my ball, wedged between the pin and the side of the cup. A pure fluke eagle. I couldn't pull that shot off again if I tried for a hundred years. I could feel the adrenalin pumping through my veins as I pulled the pin and retrieved the ball. It was badly scarred from its crash landing but I'd keep it as a souvenir.

"How about that, an eagle two," I said to Ramona. "Not my first but without doubt my most unlikely."

"That's how it goes in this game, Terry," she laughed. One moment you're a joke, then the next you're a superstar."

"It is that kind of game isn't it." I was almost embarrassed with my luck.

The rest of the game was far less dramatic. I quit trying to out-play Ramona and tried to get back to what I remembered of my game. As the day wore on, I seemed to get a bit better with my distance control. I missed a few fairways with the driver but luckily the rough was pretty light and I was able to recover fairly easily. Better yet, my short game started to come around.

I shot a thirty-nine on the front, a par thirty-five. That eagle on the second made me look good. The back nine was a more honest thirty nine, an eight over par round on a fairly easy golf course. I missed most of the traps and didn't have to hit any more miracle shots.

Ramona beat all of us as expected. She was four over par for the round and missed a couple of makeable putts that would have really given her a great round. Crystal shot eighty and Carla an eighty-one. Both of them had putting troubles.

"Ladies, allow me to buy you and drink to thank you for a delightful round."

"I think we can be persuaded," Carla smiled.

The waitress arrived and took our drink orders, leaving menus behind.

"We'll buy the lunch, Terry," Ramona volunteered. "We always split it between us anyway."

"That's very kind. Thank you," I smiled.

I ordered a New York style corned beef sandwich and a beer. It came with a small side salad and a few potato chips. The steamed corned beef, hot mustard and fresh rye bread were perfect. The ladies each chose a wine cooler and a sandwich. The food was excellent and very reasonably priced. Mind you, I was used to Chicago prices so maybe that colored my thinking.

All three of the women were from the Cincinnati area. Carla and Ramona had known each other for some years having belonged to the same golf club. Both Carla and Ramona were widows while Crystal was a divorcee. They were on a two week trip, the first week here in Reno and the second in Las Vegas. They had two ambitions that they admitted to. The first was to play golf and the second to gamble. They looked like they were not short of cash for their playtime when they talked about gambling.

"Terry, you should go right to the roulette table tonight and put a hundred on two, a hundred on twenty-two, and another hundred on even. I have a hunch it will be a winner," Ramona said confidently.

"How did you come up with that?" I asked. I was not a gambler so I wasn't thinking in that direction.

"Easy. You shot a two on the second hole. That's two twos. Two twos are twenty-two. All numbers are even. It's a dead cinch," she said confidently.

"Oh ... I hadn't thought of that. So it's a guaranteed winner, huh?" I smiled.

"Guaranteed! Trust me, I know these things," she said with a self-satisfied look.

"Okay ... it's not a big risk so I'll go along with it. Are you going to bet with me?"

"Damn right. I'm not missing out on a sure thing."

"Me too," Crystal chimed in, while Carla was nodding her agreement.

That was a sure sign of commitment if they were going to put their own money up. I couldn't back out now.

"What's your plan this afternoon, girls?" I asked.

"I'm going to hook up with my new boyfriend," Crystal said. He doesn't golf but he enjoys other kinds of sports. I'll probably find him in the sports-bet room by now."

"I'm going to take a power nap," Carla admitted. "I've got to get my strength up for tonight. I plan to make a killing," she laughed.

"I'm going to kick back and relax," Ramona said. "I might go for a swim later."

"Why don't we get together for dinner tonight?" I suggested. "My treat. I'll spend a bit of my future winnings."

"As long as you let us pay our share, Terry, that sounds like a great idea. The French restaurant okay with everyone?"

We got unanimous agreement and then headed for the shuttle to the hotel, leaving our clubs at the pro shop knowing we'd be back tomorrow for another round.

I took a shower and changed into shorts and a t-shirt, flicked on the TV and slouched on the sofa with a beer. It felt good to just kick back and do nothing. The golf was fun and the ladies were delightful even if they were a tad older than I'd normally be drawn to. Just the same they were fine looking women and kept themselves in good shape. I didn't see any major signs of wear and tear on any of them.

I must have nodded off because I was startled when I realized someone was knocking at my door. A quick look through the peep hole told me it was Ramona holding a tray of something. I opened the door.

"Hi, Terry. May I come in? I figured you would be on your own this afternoon so I ordered up a pitcher of margaritas and some taco and salsa in case we got hungry again."

She'd already walked into the room, so the question was moot. She put the tray on the coffee table and turned back to me with a questioning look. She was dressed very casually in a sleeveless t-shirt and shorts, showing off her tanned legs and arms. She was no stranger to the sun.

"Did I wake you? You look a little groggy?"

"No problem. I think I dozed off from boredom. I'm sure you can help me cure that," I said with a smile.

"Shall I pour?" she asked, once again going ahead and doing it anyway.

"Sure." She had me at a disadvantage. I wasn't sure what her visit was all about.

"We didn't get to talk much on the course today. I thought I'd spend some time and find out all about the handsome young man who seems to be on his own and without any particular plan for himself."

"Well, you got that part right," I smiled as I raised my glass to hers and touched before taking a sip. "I'm on my own and I'm headed west but I'm not sure where to. This is the first place that I've decided to spend a few days. I can play golf, exercise, swim, gamble, do all kinds of things without too much planning at all. That suits me just fine."

"You're single ... divorced I think you told me."

"That's right. I've been on my own for about five years. I let my job kill my marriage. Nobody's fault but my own. I quit my job a few weeks ago, sold my apartment in Chicago, got in my car and drove."

"You just up and quit?" she asked, surprised.

"Yep. I'd just completed the biggest merger in the company's history and I was exhausted and, to some extent, fed up with my work. I asked for a leave of absence, pretty sure that it wouldn't be granted. I had a letter of resignation all typed up so I handed it to the big boss. He wasn't pleased but he accepted it after trying to talk me out of it. At least he didn't make me any promises he couldn't keep."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Like a ten ton weight has been lifted off my back. I wasn't enjoying the job even before my last project so it wasn't as hard to quit as I might have expected. So, here I am, on my way to who knows where and in no rush to get there."

"That sounds pretty sensible to me ... as long as you can afford it," Ramona said quietly.

"I can afford it. They paid me very well and the bonus for completing the merger was very handsome. Top it off with selling my apartment and pocketing nearly three quarters of a million, I'll survive."

"Yes ... I guess you will. But what about tomorrow? You're so young. You've got so much of your life ahead of you. What do you want to do with it?"

"I think I'd like to buy my own business and run it the way I think it should be run. Who knows, that may be a recipe for disaster, but I won't know until I try. Anyway that's my thinking," I finished, taking another sip of my drink.

She was nodding either in agreement or understanding. She was a good listener and it was nice to have someone to talk to where I didn't have to guard my words.

"Do you think you'll marry again?" she asked carefully.

"Probably. I won't make the same mistake twice. I was at fault the first time. I know better now."

"Good for you, Terry. You seem like a very level-headed kind of guy. I'm sure some young woman is going to catch up to you as soon as you land in one place," she said, again with that engaging smile.

I shrugged. She was probably right, but I would be extra careful this time. Even though the failure of my first marriage was my fault, it didn't mean I would just jump at the first opportunity.

"What about you, Ramona. You're still relatively young. You must be thinking about companionship at least."

"I'm forty-six, if that's what you're wondering," she said with a grin. "I've got my eye on a fellow back in Cincinnati that might be good husband material. In the meantime we three girls have pledged ourselves to a good time. No feeling sorry for ourselves. This two week jaunt is about playing golf, eating well, doing a bit of gambling, and if we're lucky, finding a guy to spend some time with."