I know
what you are thinking…how can Darby possibly have had a date with The Juice
since he is where murderers tend to be…PRISON. Well let me tell you the story
of how the Juice infiltrated our day…
It
started out innocently enough (wow, I never realized how funny it would be to
type innocent into anything pertaining to the Juice, but I digress), Batson,
Tannis and myself were set to play a round at golf on the Augusta of the
Beaches; Dentonia, with sprawling hills, traffic roaring by and what appeared
to be renovation waste on the 12th hole, it is a gem buried in the
middle of our fair city. Things got off to an ominous start when both Tannis
and I were forced to throw down $5.99 a piece on regulation golf shirts…who
knew Dentonia had injected some class into a usually laid back morning. Armed
with my 1964 clubs made of what feels like cast iron, we took to the first tee,
sporting our brand new duds. Batson of course was the pro of the crew with
regulation golf shoes as well as decent clubs…fancy!!!!
Then on
the 4th hole, magic began to happen…Batson found a ball that was
simply called Juice, which I immediately claimed given my penchant for OJ
Simpson jokes. Anyone who has spent any amount of time with Tannis or myself
know that making fun of OJ is a national pastime of ours…”Dammit, you know who
the hell this is...It is AC!!!!” I fondly remember the chase of June 17, 1994
where my Dad famously uttered the phrase, “I sure hope he hurries up and kills himself
before it gets too dark to see” as day quickly turned to night on that infamous
California freeway.
This is
where the day took a weird turn…normally an absolutely BRUTAL golfer; my ball
could do no wrong. It would overshoot water hazards in which I usually set up
shop, dance over Archie’s (bunkers) and just when you though The Juice was
gone, he would re-appear, in a reasonably favourable position. All of this
prompted us to make constant reference to OJ eluding the certain fate of life
in jail for killing two people. I even began to refer to myself as Johnnie
Cochrane for helping The Juice out of such sticky situations. Think about it?
We were on a golf course, where OJ had spent so much time searching for the
real killers...this was too good to be true!
We were
becoming very thirsty at the same time and this is where (are you listening
Tannis???) my iPhone came in handy. We were able to look up the number of the
clubhouse to call and summon the beer girl (Sexy Blue eyes) to meet us on the
13th hole for our first round of the day…of course we asked her to
follow us for the next 3 holes so we could purchase a round at each hole. I am
sure she was both amused and frightened at how hardcore we had become at 11:30
in the morning. Finally we reached 18 and I was ready to bid adieu to the
Juice. I borrowed one of Batson’s not 500 lb clubs and launched one towards VP
station. As Juice took off out of sight I quickly regretted my
decision…”NOOOOOOO! Juice!!!!!!!” Wouldn’t you know it, Juice turned up amidst
the garbage and scraps from the recent started construction? I had a new
friend; the Juice and I were going to stick together no matter what!
As we
enjoyed a cool beverage after our round, the talk quickly turned to Juice and
his slippery ways. Almost instantly he managed to snake his way down a hole in
the picnic table…just out of our reach!!!! I tried to put my fingers into the
hole to grab him and noticed the outer lip was rather sharp…memories of
Jamestown ran through my head, which only adds to the irony of the events to
come. Fortunately we have no respect for property so Tannis and myself managed
to break away some of the plastic covering the picnic table enabling us to dig
Juice from the depths of the table…we paid no attention to the used cigarettes and
other foul garbage we were fishing through, we had Juice back!
We
decided to go back to my place for a post round barbecue and this is where the
karma of OJ really took hold of our day. As I was separating the burgers in
preparation of lunch, the knife slipped and I stabbed myself in the palm of my
hand!!!! People I kid you not; you make fun of OJ for too long and you end up
getting stabbed. I ran onto the deck holding my hand, which was bleeding like
the proverbial stuck pig and subsequently managed to drip blood all over my
deck. I was able to do to my deck what I had done to Kim’s 5 years earlier…soil
it forever. There was karma everywhere on this day! And for anyone who
understands the reference to Kim's porch, Batson was in fact drinking Busch
beer...which has subsequently been banned from my house
Of course
after much pontification and reasoning it became obvious that I needed to get stitches,
so off we went to St. Elsewhere (East General) but this was quickly aborted in
favour of me playing my baseball game. I could not wait anymore, it was simply
to annoying, and I held our hopes it would stop on its own. It didn’t and I had
to go to St. Mike’s Tuesday morning where I was stitched up in short order…
What’s
the moral of the story? Never make fun of others misfortune, or else it will
show up on your front door, or in your kitchen. You make fun of OJ and you end
up stabbed! By the way, it was Judge Ito’s birthday on Monday as well…how is
that for irony???
