The golf hustler ghosted during the high heat of 83. His fiancé, having handed over some folding money, moved me to reconnoiter those beach front dives that divot the boardwalk of Ocean City.

The barkeeps held their tongue, and the cops didn’t give a sand trap about some gone missing former felon with a rap-sheet the length of a par five tee-shot. In fact, any ex-con also labeled a legitimate scratch golfer had the boys in blue seeing green.

It took the turn to the off-season, but I found our missing Mr.Twigs. In parts, buried amongst the new construction of the, “Afraid Of The Dark” miniature golf course. One Y.A. Duffer, being the principal owner.

Seems Mr. Duffer didn’t want his daughter, my client, to nest build with a jail-bird, irrespective of his future son-in-laws golf shot acumen.

My client cried for a week. But my remuneration came on time, and included a hefty bonus.

Add Your Insights

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: