The 11^th hole at Los Verdes is a 305-yard Par 4 from the Blues that goes downhill and plays much shorter than it looks.  If you really get a hold of it, you can reach Catalina Island.

Balls stepped up to the tee confident and happy about how the round had been going so far.  The front nine, while challenging, had gone by without any blowup holes.  One par and mostly bogeys had gotten him in good position going into the Back, where he usually excelled.

The tricky bit about Los Verdes is that EVERYTHING goes toward the ocean.  Especially if the wind is kicking up, which on this day it was.  That meant he needed to be careful and make sure he kept the tee shot straight.  He chose a 3 wood instead of driver just for that reason.

He teed up the bright green ball low, took one practice swing, and then went for it.  The ball flew perfectly straight and then, once it hit the ground, turned right towards the ocean (the golf course IS on a peninsula…).  He ended up close to the cart path but with a decent approach in.

“Not bad, eh?”, he said to his playing partner, Izzy.

“salrite.  Watch my ball.”

Izzy then bombed a driver down the left side that looked as if it was headed to San Diego before it made an abrupt turn at Long Beach like it had missed the offramp.  The ball ended up in the sand trap next to the green.

“Outdrove you again!”

“Yeah, but you’re in the trap.”

Izzy replied in an indignant tone, “I’m Indonesian.  I live in Seal Beach.  Do you really think I mind a little sand?”

“Don’t get pissy with me just because your wife won’t let you have another wife.”

“Hey, I’m allowed!”

“Yeah, but not here.”

“She’s too Americanized. As soon as I retire and we move back to the Old Country, things will be different.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Balls pulled out the 48 degree wedge, tested the ground contact once, and swung away. He didn’t like to think too much on the golf course.  Until it was time to think, of course.  The ball landed on the green about 20 feet away from the pin.

Izzy expertly got his ball to within 10 feet.

“Nice out”

“Thanks.  Told ya.  Now to get me my birdie!”

He missed the birdie putt and settled for par while Balls was able to two-putt for his par.  As they moved to the 12^th tee box, Balls spotted the cart girl.  She was wearing an all-black outfit which consisted of a short (very short) skirt and a skin-tight long-sleeved bodysuit.  Luckily for Balls, the bodysuit was not a full suit, so her athletic legs were visible. The top was straining to contain its contents.

“You want anything?  I’m buying.  You’ve been outdriving me all day.  Least I can do.”

“I’ll take a Bloody.  Thanks!”

Balls walked up to the cart girl, looked at her straight in the blue eyes, and said, “Hi!  Two Bloodies, please!”

“No worries.  How’s it going out there today?”

Now, Balls usually didn’t engage with the cart girls the way most golf idiots did.  He liked to admire from afar, be polite, and tip well.  It’s hard living being a sex object for dumbasses that can’t hit straight.   Besides, his Latina girlfriend would kill him.

“Not too bad.  So far so good.”

The girl was preparing the drinks expertly.  Before Izzy had teed up his ball, the drinks were ready.

“That will be $30.”

Balls handed her two twenties and walked back towards the tee.  As he walked, he said, without turning around, “That’s all yours.”

She replied, “Thanks!  Btw, tWBS says hi!”

Balls froze.  He then slowly turned around.

“What did you s…”

She was gone.

Izzy yelled at him, “What are you waiting for?  I’m on the green already!”

Balls turned back towards his friend.  “Did you see where the cart girl went?”

“I dunno.  I wasn’t paying attention.  It doesn’t matter anyways; you weren’t getting her number.”

“That’s not why… never mind.  Here’s your drink.”

“Thank you, sir!”.  Izzy raised his cup and took a big gulp.  “Oooh, that’s good!”

“Yeah…”  Balls still wasn’t sure what had just happened.  Did she really say what he thought she said?  He teed up his ball, went through his routine, and shanked it so far right it probably landed in one of the million-dollar houses with a perfect ocean view.  At least those aren’t falling into the ocean.  Yet.

“You need some swing lube, dude.  Drink up.  That was terrible!”

Balls took a big swig of the Bloody.   It was indeed very good.  He took the girl and what she said completely out of his mind and focused solely on making contact.  The result this time was much better.  Straight at the pin.   The 12^th is uphill and has a raised green, so you could not tell where it landed but it felt good.

“Much better.  See?  I need to get you drunk so you can play better!”

“Yeah, whatever.  Get in the cart.”

They rode the cart up the hill.  Once they got to the top, they could only see Izzy’s ball sitting about 8 feet from the cup.

“What the fuck?  Where’s my ball?”

“I didn’t think you hit it that far.  Maybe it took a bad hop?”

The two looked around the green for about two minutes.  Balls’ ball wasn’t anywhere.

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“You wanna just take the max score, watch my birdie putt, and move on to the next one?”

“I might as well.  What the hell man?”

Izzy lined up his putt, put a good stroke on it, and sank the bird.

“Nice job!”

Izzy tipped his cap and walked to the hole.  He pulled out two balls.

“Hey look!  Here’s your ball!  I’m still giving you a six!”

“Fuck you”

***

The rest of the round went smoothly, and Balls recorded a pretty good score.  His best score at Los Verdes to date, actually.  As they said their goodbyes, Balls decided to take the road south towards Pedro.  A little landslide car surfing never hurt anyone.

At the corner of Western and Palos Verdes Drive (now 25^th Street), he made a left and pulled up next to the Starbucks.  A little caffeine for the drive home was necessary.  He parked the car on Western, walked into the store, and went directly to the counter.  To his surprise, the barista taking his order was wearing a very low-cut top.  He wondered if the manager knew about this.  Not that he was going to complain, but it was…. unusual.

“Hi.  Can I get a large, sorry venti caramel mach sorry iced caramel macchiato?”

“You alright there?”

“Sorry, I still get confused with your sizes and the proper way to order here.  It’s like the Soup Naz… never mind.  I’m old and you won’t get the reference.”
“It’s okay, grandpa!”  She flashed a devilish smile that told Balls she was both flirting with him and fucking with him at the same time.  Remembering his jealous girlfriend, he backed off and just replied, “Thanks!”

“Name for the order”

Balls thought about it for a second.  Fuck it, why not?  “Balls”

“Really?”

“Yeah, that’s what I go by.”

“Any reason for that?”

“Top secret.  I’m not allowed to talk about it.”

“Oookay.”  She laughed as she turned her back to him to get the order ready.  Behind her back she said, “Have a seat and I’ll bring you your drink.”

Balls felt a little stupid for having said that, but the damage was done.  He sat at a table facing the window and stared at the sea.  It was a beautiful day and the early morning golf meant he still had a full afternoon ahead of him.  He started to think about all the things he still needed to get accomplished today.

She walked up behind him and bent over so he could see her cleavage. “Here’s your drink, Ballsy”

Balls was still looking at the ocean when he said, “Thank you!”

She replied, “Umm, I need you to help me with something.”

Balls still wasn’t looking at her.

“What do you need?”

“I need you to find out who killed me.”

Balls was taken aback.  His mind snapped out his afternoon chore plans and focused on the woman next to him.  He slowly turned around and was about to say, “What?” when she interrupted him.

“It’s me!  tWBS!  I’m temporarily in this girl’s body!”

Balls turned completely around to face the girl/tWBS.  He looked her up and down to make sure he wasn’t imagining things.

“Nice tits”