Yesterday, late afternoon, I was putting my bike away when I heard two men at the Free Bench. At first I couldn’t hear their words, just the boisterous energy of their exchange and flashes of color seen through a gap between the roof and the Bench as they bent and sorted.
When one of the men had seen enough, he started walking past the driveway where I stood. He said over his shoulder to the other, “What did you find?” just as the other guy said, “A golf club! All I need is one more golf club. If this is a seven iron, I am in business.” While he said this, I still couldn’t see him. Then he came striding into view, the golf club up-ended in a manner meant to reveal whether or not the club was, in fact, a seven iron.
I will show my ignorance here: I do not know under what circumstances a single golf club comes to be on the Bench, nor do I understand how someone’s golf bag comes to be one golf club short.
The guy was so excited. I hope it was a seven iron.