Pitch and port?

I’ve booked us a week in Tunisia at the end of November. Philippa doesn’t know about it yet, and God knows when I’ll pluck up the courage to tell her. She’ll love it when we get there but I’ll have to go through all the ‘can’t afford it’/’should be saving for a house deposit’/’what about house-sitting duties??’ bullshit when she first finds out.  The holiday company will take the money at the end of the month and our bank statement won’t arrive until mid-May so I guess that gives me about four weeks or so to get the deed done. I’ll wait til she’s smiling or drunk. 

Golf day tomorrow.  I’m meeting various members of Ted’s family for some friendly pitch-and-putt at 2pm, then it’s all back to Ted’s to watch the last round of The Masters. I had to sort out the rota for on-duty managers at work this week and I accidentally put myself on the late shift on Monday, which is a nice coincidence. It means I can have the odd drop of alcohol or two tomorrow knowing I’ll have time to sleep it all off. Pinot noir and peanuts, I think, and several hits of whiskey from a hip flask while I’m armed with a nine iron and a putter. 
For what is golf about if not companionship and drinking?

RC 13-3-13