Golf carts and me

It's official. I have bad luck with golf carts.

I was about 9 years old. My grandparents were visiting from Phoenix, and we all went golfing to enjoy the pleasant weather and the beautiful course. My brother and I alternated driving the cart between holes. Carts have simple pedals and only go about 12 mph- what could go wrong? My grandma was in the cart with me, and I was instructed to park it on a slight hill by the creek. As I neared the hill, I hit what I thought was the brake but turned out to be the gas pedal. We flew up and over the hill, and the cart plumetted down into the creek with a splash. The water was up to our waists, and as it rushed over our bodies my grandma and I began to cry. "We need an alibi," I thought. "The cops can't know I was driving! I'll go to jail!"

News travelled quickly and a few days after the incident my dad received an envelope in mail. It contained photos of two friends sitting in the cart, weeds draped over their shoulders, with beers in one hand and ball finders in the other.

Until last night, I was the golf cart idiot of the family. Thankfully, David has stolen that title.

Last night our dear friends Meg and Kyle came over for dinner. Once it was dark we decided to take the golf cart out for a ride around the course. I drove for a while, and then asked if anyone else would like to drive. Bad mistake. David climbed into the driver seat, and Meg and I got up to stand on the back. Kyle, deciding that Meg was too accident prone to stand on the back, encouraged Meg to sit in the cart while he took the back next to me. We cruised around the course, spotting deer and jack rabbits in the brush.

We hit a straightaway and were driving at a good speed when David had a rare intelligence lapse. He spotted sprinklers not too far away, and pressed the brakes in an effort to go through the sprinkles slowly enough to drench us all. As he braked the cart hit slick pavement and began to lose traction. We might have recovered had the tires not caught the grass on one side. Instead, the cart spun violently to the left. I felt myself flying into the air and I could see the cart tipping to its side.

Kyle and I landed in the grass, but Meg and David were inside the cart that was now sideways on the ground. They crawled out and David lifted the cart back onto its tires. In those 5 seconds the cart slid and tipped, the seat came off, the cart's batteries rested on the ground, Meg's fingers were pinched between the roof and the pavement, David braced himself to keep from crushing Meg, Kyle and I flew to safety in the fairway and landed with only one flip flop each, and we laid on the ground with the sprinklers soaking our aching bodies. Like the 9 year old I once was, tears welled up in my eyes. Once we realized everyone was relatively okay, the boys put the cart back together. Meg and I stood shaking under a blanket while the sprinklers continued to come back around and drench us.

The injuries to both the cart and its passengers were minimal, though Meg did require frozen corn, spinach, and mixed veggies for her wounds. The most significant injury was to David's spirit. However, in a way his trick worked. We were soaked as we rode the cart slowly back to the house.