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Posted 27 April 2009 - 12:16 AM
I can’t break 100. The highest score I ever shot in a tournament was 125, when at the time I was a scratch player. It was a two day tourney and I only played one day, and after the 125, I dqed. I played the course 2 weeks before our event and shot 74.
I had just sold a company record order, $40,000,000, enough material to keep the Bay Minette, Alabama plant busy making it for months. I had been selling 12 million a year, so this was a huge order.
http://en.wikipedia....inette,_Alabama
We mined the ore in Jamaica, our plant was shown in one of the James Bond movies. There it shipped to New Orleans, where we converted the ore into metals. The plant was so large, and so hot, we took customers through it in greyhound buses. We used more electricity in a day than the entire city of New Orleans did, so this was a very big, billion dollar operation.
The order was a train, 185 boxcars of 80,000 lbs each, I sold to TVA. I used to call myself, carload Larry, because I never like to write an order, less than a truck load, but this was my first, and only train load order I sold. This was the reason was I got sick of making big sales for other people, getting patted on the back and tossed some little bone of a bonus. I went into business for myself, started my own company, so when I sold the next million dollar order, it all went to me.
The company was due to have a national sales meeting and since I was the hero of the moment, they gave me the chance to do the research on where to have it and to submit the location for review by HQ in San Francisco.
I wanted to have it in my territory and I found out the readers convention was coming to New Orleans and when I explained it, approval was given.
There are a lot of readers meetings and conventions. Some are mostly librarians, some are romance novel readers. All are women, all come together for a few days every year to get out of town, share their interests in reading, and then get dead drunk and get laid. Librarians have this straight life where they have to be so prim, proper and perfect. Get them in New Orleans, or Vegas for a weekend, and they become sexual animals. They go wild. They put spring break and the college video girls gone wild to shame.
So I book the guys into the Royal Sonesta and we have most of the hotel occupied.
http://www.sonesta.c...OYALNEWORLEANS/
They decided to reward me and I had this very large room, on the 2nd floor they set up to entertain in. It was filled full of booze, food, the works, and next to it was my room. So I had this giant room with a balcony to stand out on and view Bourbon street, open a door, a 2nd room full of booze and food, and if the noise got too much, I had this spiral staircase where I could walk up to the 3rd floor to another bedroom and have quiet, or open the doors, walk right out into a pool. It was a room set up, fit for a king. It cost a small fortune also. But this was part of my reward for landing that giant order. 2 private rooms for me, plus the entertainment room which was only used at night. 3 rooms in the top hotel in the Vieux Carrie. Any one who walked into this, was very big time impressed.
Our convention was pretty simple, that morning they fly in; tour the plant that thousands worked at, that evening, reception, food and drinks in the party room.
The next day a late breakfast meeting where the brass gave a few BS speeches, then it was off to the golf course for the two day tourney. Next day, breakfast meet, golf, reception in the party room. I of course picked the course the pro tour played on.
When all the guys got in the reception room the first night they saw my genius at work. We had open balconies over looking Bourbon Street and at best during the week there might have been a couple hundred guys out there. There were thousands of females walking the street looking for entertainment who were in town for the reader’s convention.
It was 10 women, for every man, and don’t think the women did not know it. My guys would be standing on the balcony literally doing a slave auction, hey you 2 chicks, want to come up to our suite, all the food and booze you can drink, turn around, let’s see what you look like, show me a little tittie. The drunker they got, the bolder they got, and the drunker the chicks on the street got, the later it got, the more they could see they were not going to get laid, the more the slave auction worked. When they could find 2 they liked, they would toss down the key and up they would come.
Show me yo tits, bitch?
I was told it was the best convention of all time, because every guy got laid, even the old ugly ones and the nerds did. These chicks became desperate. 2 chicks come up, 2 guys hustle them and take off, and soon the room was getting thinned out.
In 1974 I was getting so much poo say, I could care less at that time. I had all ready assessed the situation and knew it was all going to just come to you. This was one that was known in the sales game, as a given, a lay down. A slam dunk. You did not chase. You there, were not the chase or, you were the chase E. I had decided to pace myself, but that plan did not work.
A key goes out the window and one of the guys says, wait till you see the chick coming up in the white dress, she is a movie star. She walks in with her bow wow dog librarian pal and the guy was right. She was drop dead gorgeous. Long black hair, a pair of hooters that should have been carved in marble in a statue to be seen for centuries and they were the real deal. Tight fit white dress, just the right amount of cleavage, hotter than a red chili pepper. A perfect 11.0 body, a 10.0 face, a movie star.
Naturally all the guys flocked to her, so I just laid back, did some eye contact stuff, then I made my move, I walk up, said do you like my place, she said, is this yours, I said sure, and these are my guys, let me show you the rest of it, I open the door, take her into my next door room, shut the door behind me, and those bozos out, then up the spiral stair case into my 2nd upstairs bedroom, open the doors into my pool, and I said, we could to a midnight swim, don’t worry about not having a bathing suit, I did not bring mine either, then I took her back to the party.
Ok, it was a lot of BS, but when you are trying to lay and pork some bitch, anything goes in love and war. They expect a certain amount of BS and know it goes with the program. My normal room out on the road was a double bed at the Holiday Inn. This room, was for a whale, it was a once in a lifetime deal, and I made the most of it. No way was I going to be sleeping alone in that palace.
I think what cinched it was all these other guys trying to hit on her were from all over the country. She was from Alabama, so was I. She lived in Auburn; I lived in Birmingham, 2 hours away. She was not looking for a one night stand; she was looking for a long term relationship. When I impressed that on her, she ignored the other guys, that were better looking than me, and I had taken out my superior competition by outsmarting them and using better salesmanship. Seducing females is nothing but salesmanship and knowing when and how to close.
An hour later, after a few drinks, we were swimming in the pool, and then we were in bed. I have had over 1,000 beautiful women, I stopped counting after 1,000, that I rated 9’s and above, no coyotes are counted, which deletes several hundred that never got on the list, and the movie stars are from all over the world, but this lady, had the most perfect and beautiful body of them all.
I did the wild thing all night long, lost count of how many times, but it had to be a world record as I was in nonstop action for 9 hours. The next thing I know, the damn alarm goes off at 9am, I hop up with zero sleep, get dressed, hit the breakfast meeting, then go out to play golf in the summer heat and humidity and its 95 by tee off. I am still drunk from the night before. I am invincible, bullet proff, a bad ass Mf, I can do this.
The summer heat and humidity in that region is brutal.
I go birdie, par, then all the booze begins to vent out of my pours, the heat begins to sober me up and I begin to get sick, and I go double, triple, quad, and downhill from there.
Try and remember the movie Cat Ballou when Kid Schillen has his 5 minute moment of brilliance and then the booze kicked in and he was done. That was a perfect repeat of what I did.
Once the heat got me, stick a fork in my ass. I would get up, hit it as far as I could, by then my driver was going about 180 yrds, jump back in the cart and slept until the next shot. The round took over 5 l/2 hours because most of those dickheads could not play worth a she-yit and they were as fooked up as I was.
Finally the torture ended and I begged them to take me to the hospital and put me in the intensive care ward and hook me up to some Iv’s and Oxygen and begin a blood transfusion or just shoot me. I said I preferred to be shot. The dickheads took me back to my room and gave me a double scotch instead. I could not convince them I was near fookin death. I think they wanted my ass to die, anyone who shot scratch and just closed a 40 million dollar order; you want to get rid of. I said, I am DQ, put me in as being sick, if you make me play tomorrow, I will shoot myself. You don’t want me to die on the course; it will be bad press in the newspapers. They let me off.
The phone is ringing, it’s her, yes dinner, sounds great, come by and have a drink, where we are eating, is very close by. We go by Felix’s and have some raw oysters, I eat 3 dozen, said I needed them bad, lead in the pencil, then to moran's, just for the fettuccine only, then we do not stand in line like the tourists at the top restaurant I picked, I show her how to go in the side door unmarked, into the kitchen, snap your finger for the penguin, and get a table. If they know you, and they all knew me as a local, which was how you did it. We were seated immediately at a top table. We end up on the river eating cafe' au lait, beignets at Cafe Du Monde. Back to my place for some heated cognac.
When it came to showing a lady, the ultimate date, that I was good at, and with my room which was a whale’s palace, and unlimited expense account, she was treated like the queen she was.
One of the things that never added up was here is this movie star with these librarians who were mostly just average looking ladies. Many were below average. Most of them were nerds, she was not.
Two weeks later I make the call, and show up in Auburn. She is married, has 2 kids, great looking kids, she is mid 30’s, looks mid 20’s, and she is in Auburn to complete her doctorate, there was the readers connection. She was living in a University community with all these librarians she was hanging out with. I never ever saw a mid 30’s lady look that good. She worked out a lot in a gym.
Her main hobbies were the same as mine, she liked to fook like a bunny and drink. She was a Martini drinker, kept her gin in the freezer. I knew how to make them dry, take the vermouth bottle and breathe over the top into the glass, saying, I don’t wanna bruise da booze. She liked to get drunk, and to get laid.
She was basically lonely, her husband was an astronaut, had been on the moon a couple of years before I met her, and she had spent all those years at Edwards, the Cape and at other bases being isolated and left alone, she finally decided to establish her own independent life from the flyboy’s world. Since he was never around to keep her happy, I felt it was my patriotic duty, to help out. Kinda made up for me not going to Nam and having the first confirmed kill of a little brown slope in my hood or getting to napalm a village and wipe out all those dinks. Hoo Rah.
I never had so much fun and never knew a more complete, a more beautiful and a sexier woman. She was dead perfect in everything, but she had this one little hang-up which really bugged me. She dropped this one on me once we got out of New Orleans and she got back home. Once you got in, she wanted you to just lie there, and not move. I am going not move, hell I am usually stroking to the left, strokin to the right, stroking to da east, da west, no stroking, nada????????????
What dee she-yit is this? Missionary style and no movement. Damn son, this is fookin Mid evil. I am used to a bunch of funky she-yit being dropped on me but this one was unique. With most chicks the more strokin you do, he happier they are.
She was not shy, and did not want to do it in the dark like some up tight virgins I did, wanted. I would come over, and after a couple of drinks, she would go in and change into a bikini, and then come out to show me. She had this bear skin rug, and we would be on it. That bikini would come off faster than a speeding ticket. She did not want me to waste a lot of time I guess to unbutton and untie, fight trying to get a bra off. I loved that.
You would think you would lose it. Naw, all you had to do was raise up and view what you were on, there was no losing it. But that one drove me nuts. I learned to live with it. Image you just got lucky, Kim Bassinger has you in her bedroom, you are in, and she says, you can’t move, just lay there. Okie dokie. Anything you say Kim. Life is never perfect, you must learn to compromise and accept things that are not in your control.
This went on for 2 full years. I called her the Doctor. I would say, I have to go visit the doctor, and everyone including my boss, knew. When he saw my expense accounts in Auburn he knew, and passed them on. The dirty old man, made me give him a full report of what went on there.
She graduated, got her doctorate, and they went back out to Edwards. I moved to Atlanta, and got a much bigger job, working for a new company out of NYC. I never tried to see her again. It had gotten much too serious. It was at the point, she was ready to leave hers, if I would leave mine, and I was the one, who would not do it. Looking back, that was the biggest mistake of my life, because the bitch I was married to would betray me in a few years to come any way. But one cannot see into the future, and know where your life goes.
This I do know, never stay married, for the sake of the kids. Fook the kids, they will survive, find your own happiness. Always follow your gut, your base instinct, go with what you know, what you feel is right, and what you want to do. The rest will all sort out in time.
Here is a pic of the dickheads that would not take me to the emergency room.
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