When Guys Get Together


I love to golf and I really enjoy smoking. I’ve been smoking for ten years or so, now.

Wow, you’re in your sixties, you started to smoke in your fifties, you’re a golfer and you love to smoke?

Well, yeah.

I guess that’s not so difficult, when you’re ready to swat that ball you just toss your cigarette on the grass and when the ball’s in flight you reach down and pick up that ciggie and take a congratulatory pull off your butt. Right?

I smoke cigars; expensive cigars.

That must be awkward.

Not really; my bag, as well as some of the golf carts have a special clip made to hold my cigar when I’m up to bat.

Up to bat, I thought we were talking about golf.

And I thought we were talking about smoking.

Smoking it is.

Thank you, I have one golfer friend who smokes a pipe; he leaves it in his mouth when he’s up to bat.

There you go again.

He never spills one little crumb of tobacco.


Here, have a cigar.

Don’t mind if I do.

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