Wednesday Night Stories: Mini Golf

I am a big fan of mini-golf. In high school I aspired to own a mini-golf course. When a friend and I discovered a course in a nearby town that cost less than 4 dollars, the obsession jumped to a new level. A year later I ended up working at that course during the infamous Raceway to Fun summer.

While I worked there, I spotted some gems in the rafters one day. High above one of the sheds there were several rolls of used, raggedy Astroturf. A few days later, my boss agreed to give them to me. I was thrilled and the 'turf followed me around my college houses for the next several years.

My junior year, we ended up renting a rather large house (home of the finger candle incident) that included a very creepy attic and a basement filled with dungeon-like rooms.

It was awesome.

With all these new extra spaces to explore, we quickly began filling them, putting a foosball table in one dungeon (it was played on only one occasion) and some chickens in another room (story to come at a later date). We also, took the random junk past tenants had left in the basement and combined it with my Astroturf to make a beautiful, though miniature mini-golf course.

On the night we finished constructing the course (also, the night we began constructing), eight of us took on the challenge and played the course (one of us, you can guess which, chose to wear a "golf outfit"). The obstacles were made of plywood, a bed frame, music stands, and other random commodities.

I wish I could tell you who won . . . but to be honest, it didn't matter. I think the following pictures will prove my point:

Dave was ready for anything. (Side note: Dave also is known for owning a "tennis outfit" and wore a sweater every day for 4 months that same year.)

The course only had five holes but with eight of us and only one putter it still took several hours to play and early on the cardboard tunnel hole caused significant consternation for Tim.

On hole two Molly ended up out of bounds in a corner, but things only got worse for her . . .

You must play the ball as it lies, but at least she wasn't Dave . . .

I'll save Kristen the embarrassment of showing how she broke glassware with one of her shots, but I will post some live-action of her shot on the L-hole.

The wonders of a gigantic house and free time!