Tiger Woods drives his BMW into a petrol station in a remote part of
the Irish countryside. The pump attendant, obviously knows nothing about
golf, greets him in a typical Irish manner completely unaware of who
the golfing pro is. "Top of the mornin' to yer, sir" says the attendant.
Tiger nods a quick "hello" and bends forward to pick up the nozzle.
As he does so, two tees fall out of his shirt pocket onto the ground.
"What are those?, asks the attendant. "They're called tees" replies
Tiger. "Well, what on the god's earth are dey for?" inquires the Irishman.
"They're for resting my balls on when I'm driving", says Tiger.
"Fook me", says the Irishman, "BMW thinks of everything."
the Irish countryside. The pump attendant, obviously knows nothing about
golf, greets him in a typical Irish manner completely unaware of who
the golfing pro is. "Top of the mornin' to yer, sir" says the attendant.
Tiger nods a quick "hello" and bends forward to pick up the nozzle.
As he does so, two tees fall out of his shirt pocket onto the ground.
"What are those?, asks the attendant. "They're called tees" replies
Tiger. "Well, what on the god's earth are dey for?" inquires the Irishman.
"They're for resting my balls on when I'm driving", says Tiger.
"Fook me", says the Irishman, "BMW thinks of everything."
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