Of course, I must start with a show link. (April 13) Last one of the year. Don’t cry too hard.

And the goods.

Yesterday Jason and I went to the golf course down the street. We wanted to play a quick morning 9 holes, which at 13 bucks was a pretty good deal. Turns out on Wednesdays, you get to play 18 holes for that 13 dollars. Sweet.

We play about 13 holes with these two other random guys, Bob and Bruce. Bruce then leaves, and the FUN begins.

The three of us remaining are putting on the next hole. We look back and see this very impatient-looking woman standing 100 yards away like she’s about to hit a ball at us. After we tee off on the next hole, we ask if she would like to either play through (pass us), or join our group. Thankfully, she decided to join us. Not two seconds into announcing her decision, she tells us that she’s “pretty hot right now,” which I mistakenly thought was a reference to the warm weather.

Turns out, she was actually quite pissed. At her husband. And his “recording equipment on a golf course.” Um. What? I thought she saying her husband had some sort of bluetooth earpiece deal and was rudely taking calls on the course. No no. She said he was taping their conversations. He also apparently could say whatever he wanted, but the second she started trying to add her own opinion to a conversation, he would simply ignore her. Like when she was telling him about what Jane Fonda said “on the TV the other night” about how it was better to have pain in your knees than anywhere else. Um. What?

She told us ALL of that before taking her first shot. Bob, who was a very nice older guy–probably a good 70 years old and a better golfer than Jason or I–looked the woman square in the eye and said “Miss, take your shot.” At this command, the woman took several steps toward the tee box. But apparently she wasn’t done and came right back to us and said she was going to move to Canada and find someone who would treat her right. Um. What?

The husband was apparently also taping everything at home. There was recording equipment all over the house and in her car. The information has already been used against her, and her neighbors have already done her wrong. Um. What?

Things go OK for a couple of holes. She steams quietly to herself while we play and wait for the next treasure trove of information. Nothing new until the end of the round. Typically, after everyone finishes you have this little shake hands nice playing with you routine that takes 20 seconds and you all part ways and continue with your lives. The woman says “I’m sorry if I brought my negativity and situation to your day.” We all say that’s no problem and exchange pleasantries with the others. But the woman didn’t stop there. She went on about how she was ashamed of having a sister-in-law who had the name of Senator Benson and about how she has already tried going to court against her husband, but since she didn’t have a lawyer she didn’t have a chance.

So Jason and I pack up our stuff and get into the car. We mention the possibility of waiting around in the parking lot to see this husband come off the course and a big confrontation to go down. But then another possibility strikes us. What if it was all made up? At this point I’m about 75 percent sure none of that ever happened to her. But I’m also 100 percent certain she brought some added enjoyment to my day.