We’re sitting in the Atlanta airport in late September, all 12 of us returning home after five solid days of golf in Myrtle Beach. The temperature was a little on the cool side, probably around 58° or so. At that time I would travel with a tan sport coat, that I would wear to the airports in hopes that a flight attendant would bump me up to first class, sometimes it would work, but most of the time they would just point me to my economy seat in the middle of the aircraft and smile, they always smile.
There are three of us sitting right next to each other at the gate C-12, about 30 minutes prior to boarding. The other nine fellows were all seated about two or three rows behind us. I’m wearing my tan sport coat over a light blue button down pressed dress shirt, a pair of midnight blue khakis, with a pair of cordovan penny loafers, freshly shaved with a slightly tanned face from a week of solid golf in Myrtle Beach.
Next to me, seated to my direct left is a Dr. Bruce, a very prominent doctor, who we also call Dr. Derm or Dr. Clearasil ( the good doctor who is always on “zit” call before our local high school proms), wearing a cream colored light weight jacket with a Foot Joy logo embroidered over his left breast area, over a new black golf shirt with the Dunes Country Club logo, also embroidered over the left breast area, coupled with a pair of black dress pants, with a pair of black tasseled loafers, also freshly shaven.
Seated next to Dr. Derm on his left is PA Paul, our daily and weekly statistician, who is a very successful insurance specialist, who also is the public address announcer (hence, the name PA) for our local Bradley Braves b-ball team. PA has decided to dress super casual, wanting to be very comfortable at the airport. He’s wearing his weathered beaten green Titleist golf hat over a face that went unshaven for the day, with facial hair stubble’s which are very noticeable from 8 to 10 feet away, trying to achieve the Brad Pitt look. He’s wearing his faded and badly wrinkled long sleeve madras shirt, partially tucked into his old but very comfortable Levi’s, while wearing his very tired New Balance running shoes that doubled as golf shoes for the whole week.
Dr. Bruce and I are engaged in very polite golf and the political conversation about the current administration screwing around with our lives and money, while PA Paul is recording the gross and net skins won that week, with five or six scorecards spread out over his lap.
Seated immediately right across from us is an elderly silver haired couple who also are waiting to board their plane. I would say that the gentleman was in his late 80s and his lovely wife in her mid-80s, a pair of great looking grandparents. Unbeknownst to the three of us, was that they both were listening and observing our social behavior and body language. Every now and then he would lean over to his wife, whisper something into her ear and she in return would do the same thing to him.
About five to ten minutes prior to them boarding their plane, she finally leaned over the isle between us and very softly with her southern drawl, said to me, “My name is Mabel and this here is my dear husband Harold. Are you one of those professional golfers that we see on TV every weekend?”
I very softly said to her, “Why do you think that?”
Mabel replied to me, “Because you were discussing golf and politics, you just have the look and tan of a professional golfer and the fellow seated to your direct left has to be your golf manager, while the person to his left at the very end of the row has to be your professional golf caddy. Just look at him… he looks like a hopeless vagabond, couldn’t you give him some more of your winnings, so he can clean himself up?”
I’m totally flattered by Mabel, so I said to her, “You are exactly correct about all three of us, they call me Lefty, but please don’t make a fuss or tell anyone here in the airport, because I will be forced to give out autographs all night long and we also, have a flight to catch.” And then I just put my forefinger to my lips and went shhh…
Mabel winked at me and said my secret was safe with her. She then turned abruptly to Harold, her husband, proudly saying in a strong voice, “See Harold, I was completely right about all three of these gentlemen and you said that they were nothing more than a couple of government employees with their maintenance man over there at the end of the row.” pointing to PA. “Now, let’s not be dillydallying around. We should be boarding our plane on our way back home and not bother these perfectly nice gentlemen again.” So, they both very slowly and gingerly stood up, Mabel said to me in parting, ” I just can’t wait to get back to Mayberry, tell the grandkids that we both meet Lefty, the PGA pro.” then they both waved to me and proceeded to board their plane. Thank God, it was a different flight than ours.
Dr. Derm looked at me and said, “I don’t believe what I just saw and heard, have you no shame?” I just smiled at him and quoted from the movie, The Usual Suspects, “A man can convince anyone he’s somebody else, but never himself.”
PA finally looked up from all of his scorecards and said, “What the heck was that all about? Did I miss something?”
Bruce just rolled his eyes to the back of his head, while shaking his head back and forth; again I just smiled at Paul and said, “You are now one infamous caddie, just like Bones.”
Lefty – If you’d let yourself be managed by Dr. Derm, you’d win a lot more money at golf. Then you’d be able to pay off PA Paul and be even more in the money!
You’re so right Dr. Derm is the key. PA Pual is just the guy who needs a shave.