I figured that I still had just enough time to play one last round of golf in California before I had to catch my international flight back to Amsterdam. I was really looking forward to playing with my old golfing buddy, but he was nowhere to be found. Having already waited at the clubhouse for thirty minutes, I was getting pretty impatient. I was worried about the flight that I might miss if we started our round of golf too late.
The golf course was jam packed with millions of people all over the place. Lines were forming at every tee just like the long lines at theme parks during busy weekends. The place was one big confusing labyrinth. The fairways twisting around like a ball of spaghetti and there were greens located every which way. The trees were thick and twisted together, and the rough formed a thick tapestry of greenish spikes jabbing into the sky. There was a slight wind, nothing out of the ordinary, but there was something in the air that made one feel like some disaster was about to take place.
I then realized that the first tee box was way down at the bottom of this steep hill, and I had to negotiate my way down a winding dirt path. Pushing past the people walking the other way was not easy, and although I felt like pushing people to the side because I was in a hurry, I remained patient and cordial. Finally I saw him, there was my friend entertaining a large crowd of people with his various antics and spectacular golf tricks. I put my bag of clubs in the golf cart and waved at him to indicate that I was ready to go.
I pushed my way through the thick crowd and realized I had gone the wrong way, so I tried to turn around and head in the right direction back to where I thought that my friend should be. However, by the time I had got to the tee box, my friend had already hit his drive and was wheeling his way quickly down the fairway in the golf cart. He'd left me behind in the suffocating crowd and everyone was applauding except me.
I tried to push my way through but it was impossible, there was no way that I would ever be able to catch up to him. So I gave up knowing that I had to leave right away in order to catch my flight in time. Going back up the hill was steeper than I remembered coming down. It kept getting steeper and steeper, until I was forced to negotiate a sheer vertical climb by pulling myself up with my arms using this long rope that was hanging down from an overhanging branch.
I somehow pulled my way up to the very top. When I looked down I realized if I let go I'd fall hundreds of feet to my death. With a dangling left leg I raised my foot barely high enough so that I acquired enough leverage to pull myself up to safety. If I managed to wave down a taxi fast enough and there were no traffic jams, I'd barely make it in time to the airport.
That's when I realized that my favorite set of clubs were still on that lousy golf cart that my friend was driving down the first hole. By now he was probably rounding the bend to the second hole. I'd have to leave my wonderful clubs behind or miss my flight, which was a real predicament. I was angry, worried and frustrated at the same time.
I never knew what happened after that, but I can only wonder. When I awoke and the first thoughts of the new day started bubbling on the liquid surface of consciousness, I had already forgotten the end of this interesting episode.