Ralph let out a weak sigh as he missed another easy putt on the green. “I don’t know what’s the matter with my game today.” he said.
Ralph’s friend, Jeff, was his rival at today‘s friendly match play contest. Jeff had an answer.
“You’ve got the yips.”
“The what?” Ralph, although a keen golfer was unfamiliar with this saying.
“The yips, you‘ve got them. I know yips when I see them. You’re yipping all over the place.” yapped Jeff and he proceeded to give a demonstration of yipping using his putter.
“Does the yips hurt?” asked Ralph.
“No, it’s just a spasm you get before you putt. It’s psychological not physical.” muttered Jeff.
“Then why am I getting a twinge in my shoulder.” Ralph pulled up the sleeve of his T-shirt. “Oh no, what’s this?” A spot the size of a marble was attached to Ralph’s shoulder. The globular pustule glistened on the green.
“That’s a pretty big boil you’ve got there, Ralph. Here, let me give it a squeeze.”
“No way.” Ralph let go of the sleeve and stepped back.
“Don’t be a baby. After its burst you’ll be playing better again.” Jeff stepped toward Ralph.
“It needs a professional’s touch, Jeff. I think I’ll go to the doctor.”
“You can’t go to the doctor because you’ve got a big spot.”
* * * *
Ralph was lying on his back on the doctor’s couch, his sleeve rolled up, flashing his impressive spot for all it was worth. He was proud of it. It was a pretty, pretty, pretty good spot. The nice female doctor had assessed the shoulder and was away to get a needle to break the boil. There might be a little pain but he’d soon have his putting rhythm back again. His feelings of self-satisfaction disappeared when he looked down at his trousers.
“Dammit.” He cursed.
This was the last time he was going to wear these denims. The denims didn’t have a fly zip, instead there were four steel buttons in the groin area. For quickness and laziness Ralph always only tied two of these buttons. The top one at the waist and the middle one of the bottom three. When he was standing erect the trousers were decently closed but in this reclining position they were two gaping holes at the unbuttoned joists. From his vantage point he was staring at an indecent figure eight.
“Come on, come on.” Ralph struggled to button up a loose end. His clumsy fingers couldn’t open up the eyelet for the button to go through. Under use of the garment had made the threading process difficult. There were footsteps outside. Ralph pulled his T-shirt down as far as it could go.
“Oh sorry, wrong room.” a cheerful auxiliary worker gave Ralph a little wave. Ralph with both hands on the bottom of his T-shirt could only give a nervous little nod back. The woman left and Ralph went back to the job in hand.
He was getting desperate and grabbed the top of his trousers. He shook them hoping to somehow make a gap. Ralph’s boil throbbed and bubbled with the after shock.
“It’s coming, it’s coming.” Significant progress seemed to have been made as there was a bit of give in one of the buttonholes. “Nearly there.”
Disaster struck as instead of filling in one of the gaps, Ralph had inadvertently opened the button in the middle. There were now three untied buttons. The figure eight had vanished to be replaced with a mighty oblong zero. And then the doctor entered with the giant needle. Ever the professional, the doctor never batted an eyelid. Though, she said to herself she won’t be gentle with the needle and she’ll give the patient a sore prick.