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Carol Perkins: Driving Guy bananas
Previous column: Looking to the Future
By Carol Perkins
When Guy started playing golf decades ago, his foursome played at the country club in Tompkinsville, which was one of the few in the area. At that time, there was a popular fruit and vegetable stand located between the golf course and the outskirts of Tompkinsville. After he left one Saturday morning, I had the "notion" to make banana pudding. (This was before farmers' markets became so popular.)
Not wanting to have to get myself "town" ready, I came up with an idea to get the bananas I needed. I didn't realize that my plan would cause such a commotion at the golf course, and later place Guy in the middle of a running joke about bananas. Here is what transpired.
I called the golf course and asked the person who answered the phone if he would have Guy Perkins to call me when he could. I never indicated there was an emergency. What I intended to happen but didn't communicate very well was for Guy to call me when he came back to the clubhouse and before he left for home.
The person with whom I spoke took my message to mean he needed to call home right away. He took it to mean there was an emergency, so he jumped on his golf cart and rushed to find Guy. Across the course he came, according to Guy, as if his cart was driving him, headed for the foursome. "Guy," he said in a very anxious tone, "you need to call home."
Naturally, Guy and the others thought something dreadful had happened. They each offered to go with him to make the call just in case there was bad news. Rather than taking the golf cart the players had rented, Guy jumped on with the man from the clubhouse, and off they went, leaving the others to speculate what might be wrong. He described how his heart was racing, thinking something had happened to the children or someone else. "I expected the worst. Carol wouldn't have called unless something was wrong," he said he told the driver.
The anticipation was high as he dialed the number (long before cell phones) and waited for my voice. "What's wrong," he said as soon as I answered the phone. "Wrong?" I asked. "Nothing is wrong."
"What do you mean nothing is wrong?" he said, sounding disappointed. "Why did you call me?" I assured him that I didn't expect him to leave his game and call me immediately. By then, I hated to tell him the reason for the call, but I had no choice. I continued, "Well, what I wanted was for you to stop by the fruit stand and bring me some bananas. I want to make banana pudding." He was flabbergasted. "You called me off the golf course for bananas?" I guess that is exactly what I did, but it wasn't my fault!
When he returned to the greens and had to tell the other fellows why I had called, they never let him live it down. After every game for weeks, they asked if he needed to get bananas. Of all the things I have done, he says that this incident stands out as one of the most frightening moments he has experienced and the most ridiculous. By the way, Guy hates banana pudding!
Carol's most recent book, based on a true story, The Case of the Missing Ring, is available through Amazon, both paperback and ebook. You can contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.
This story was posted on 2020-08-05 10:38:15
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