Sam stood over his tee shot on the 450 yard 18th hole for
what seemed an eternity. He waggled, looked up,
looked down, waggled again, but didn’t start his back swing.
Finally his exasperated partner asked, ‘What in the world is taking so long?’
‘My wife is watching me from the clubhouse balcony,’ Sam explained. ‘I want to make a perfect shot.’
His companion said, ‘You don’t have a chance in hell of hitting her from here.’