A multimillionaire bachelor goes to his club to play golf with two friends. Not knowing who would be joining them, they walk to the first tee.
As they finish teeing off, a tall, beautiful, raven-haired woman asks if she can join them.
Although the bachelor thinks this is going to slow down their play, he agrees. The woman tees up a ball and, without a practice swing, smacks it straight down the middle.
This goes on all day and she finishes even par for the round, beating all the men.
They invite her back the next week. They have a great time, and she shoots the same score. The bachelor thinks to himself, “This is the girl of my dreams!”
So he asks her out on a date. They go out, find they have much in common and have a great evening.
They make another golf date, during which she shoots two-under and gives a clinic in shotmaking.
The millionaire is now convinced that they are meant to be together. He invites her back to his apartment, where they talk for hours.
Everything is progressing smoothly, so he invites her to his bedroom.
Their passions run riot, but she doesn’t let things go too far and he drives her home.
This pattern continues for a month: Great golf, great dates, but nights of abbreviated passion. The bachelor can’t take it anymore.
“I know the time we spent on the golf course and in my apartment is wonderful. And even though we haven’t been fully intimate,
I know that I love you, you love me, and that you are the girl I want to marry!”
“Darling,” she says, “I have something to tell you. I can not hide it anymore. I am a man!”
His mouth drops open, his face turns red, he begins to shake. She’s convinced he’s going to have a heart attack, or worse,
when finally, in a blind rage, he shouts, “And all, this time, you’ve been playing from the red tees?”
