On a golf tour in Ireland, 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, greeting him in a
typical Irish manner completely unaware of the identity of the golfing
pro.
"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 good earth are they for?" inquires the Irishman.
"They're for resting my balls on when I'm driving," says Tiger.
"Freckin Jaysus," says the Irishman, "BMW tinks of everything!"
station in a remote part of the Irish countryside.
The pump attendant obviously knows nothing about golf, greeting him in a
typical Irish manner completely unaware of the identity of the golfing
pro.
"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 good earth are they for?" inquires the Irishman.
"They're for resting my balls on when I'm driving," says Tiger.
"Freckin Jaysus," says the Irishman, "BMW tinks of everything!"