Tiger Woods drives his BMW into a gas
station in a remote corner of the Irish countryside.
The pump attendant, who obviously knew nothing about golf didn't recognise Tiger, greets him in typical Irish manner.
"Top of the mornin' to ya, sir," says the attendant. Tiger, who is familiar with Irish customs,
responds with, "And the rest of the day to you,
Tiger then bends forward to pick up the nozzle of the gasoline hose. As he > does so, two golf tees fall out of his shirt pocket onto the ground.
"What are those?" asks the attendant. "They're called tees," replies Tiger. "And what on the good earth are they fer?" inquires the Irishman. "They're for resting my balls on
when I'm driving," says Tiger. "Feckin hell," says the Irishman, "BMW thinks of everything."
On a golf tour in Ireland,
Tiger Woods drives his BMW into a gas
station in a remote corner of the Irish countryside.
The pump attendant, who obviously knew nothing about golf didn't recognise Tiger, greets him in typical Irish manner.
"Top of the mornin' to ya, sir," says the attendant. Tiger, who is familiar with Irish customs,
responds with, "And the rest of the day to you,
Tiger then bends forward to pick up the nozzle of the gasoline hose. As he > does so, two golf tees fall out of his shirt pocket onto the ground.
"What are those?" asks the attendant. "They're called tees," replies Tiger. "And what on the good earth are they fer?" inquires the Irishman. "They're for resting my balls on
when I'm driving," says Tiger. "Feckin hell," says the Irishman, "BMW thinks of everything."