Quote:
Originally Posted by Mortal1
*sigh* I'm a 5'3" target for those self entitled golfers who know more than 55+ years experience at a fairly decent level of amateur golf...this clown and his wife kept their cart parked within the depth of the green thinking they were safe from the tee. Even after numerous attempts to get them to move further from the green side cart path(my wife drove down and asked them to please get outta range) and a call of "FORE" from two people, a ball zipping past the front of their cart, the person with a huge ignorance chip on their shoulder insisted they had moved far enough from the side of the green.
The afore mentioned person then got in my face and threatened me with a beating(never make the first move...you'll be held accountable). I stood my ground and put up with his mouthy attitude even with proof they were wrong on so many things. It wasn't until my 6'5" playing partner got out of his cart that he quickly backed off and drove off.
Why are there some of you out there that think the rules don't apply to them??? Go somewhere else!
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Given how relaxing things are here, I’m startled by the anger and quick tempers I sometimes see, including my own. Yesterday morning I turned my car into a driveway in the Historic District, apparently without using my turn signal, though I believe I did. Apart from a golf cart a couple hundred feet behind me, there was no traffic in sight. Despite that, the driver stopped to yell at me for thinking I was privileged (in my ten year old Prius) and didn’t have to follow the law and use my turn signal. (I’m a stickler for trying to always signal and always come to a complete stop at stop signs.)
A couple days ago a golf cart on Morse swerved into the car lane and I tapped my horn to let him know I was there, not realizing he was swerving to keep from hitting a bicycle (which I couldn’t see because of the golf cart). He gave me the finger! When I saw the bicycle, I lowered my window and yelled out an apology.
If a golfer hits a ball into my garden behind my house, I don’t mind if he (it’s always a he) comes into the garden to pick up the ball, but it makes me furious if he tries to hit it from my garden, risking hitting my birdcage. (And would he write down the penalty stroke if he picked it up? Fat chance!)
It’s not an excess of testosterone. So why are so many of us so easily provoked to anger?