Playing my Thursday-Golf-Session I forgot to bring my golf glove, thus hands soon began to get sweaty, nasty and worst of all - slippery. Instructor man looked unimpressed as my previously good shots of last week deteriorated into stuff that made Happy Gilmore look like Tiger Woods. The worst bit came when he started to question my 'poor play' (read: I almost took someone's eye out) and he then started to dry the shaft of the club with his hands. Now, the phallic nature of this was too much to bear and, considering I have the my mental age of a 5 year old, I started laughing. And then I continued laughing because I was so embarassed I was laughing. Which made it worse - I was in this eternal cycle of Hell-ic emotion where every laugh made the situation more and more awkward and I came off looking more and more of a person who forgot to take their pills. Anyway, once I'd calmed myself down it was all very bad, felt like a real arse because I AM and so on. Damnit. But at least my play improved (who knows whether it was the vigorous rubbing or the dry shaft that made it good). Oh god, I'm off again.