Last year on the fourth of July, I was in Minneapolis, Minnesota with my wife, two brothers, my mom, and my grandmother, taking a summer vacation. We were going to a Minnesota Twins game that afternoon (what’s more patriotic than going to a baseball game and eating hot dogs?), but that morning we had some time to kill so we went to the park to play disc golf. It was a pretty small course, only nine holes, that we could get through in about half an hour, so we thought we would have time to play through a couple times before we had to leave to make sure we made it to the game on time, unfortunately we were playing behind a group of four guys, who were on the second hole when we started, and from the moment I saw them playing, I despised them. One had a portable chair that he brought with him to each hole, as if standing for longer than a minute was too big of a burden for him. Granted, disc golf does attract some of us less athletic people, but I’d never seen anyone carrying around a chair, and subsequently sitting down at the start of each hole.
Every member of their group threw three drives, which was insanely inconsiderate, given that we were waiting behind them to play. We would finish the hole and then have to stand waiting for these guys, at least five minutes between holes, while they through disc after disc, like it was their personal course that we were just lucky to have the opportunity to be playing on. Not being the sort of person who seeks confrontation, I didn’t say anything to them, but believe me, I drilled holes through each of them with an impatient glare, hoping to make them feel guilty for taking so long, and make them speed up on future holes, on throwing one drive, like a normal human being, but time after time they kept throwing three, and my brothers and I were fairly annoyed at their lack of humanity.
As we approached the end of the nine hole course, which I won by the way and is the only time I’ve, to this point, beaten my brothers, we realized that it had taken so long that we wouldn’t be able to play through a second time like we’d originally hoped. When we finished the course, one of the players from the foursome approached my brother and asked if we too were playing in the tournament. We had no idea that a tournament was taking place, but apparently, everyone else on the course had paid to play that day, and were allowed three drives on each hole. They were playing by the rules, while we shouldn’t have even been on the course in the first place. As we played I knew that there were some jerks on the disc golf course that day, I just didn’t realize that it was me and my brothers, who were playing that role.