The Ladies’ Tee
A Vignette
By Maryanne Peters

Is there anything more infuriating in golf than to have your playing partner set his tee on the ladies’ tee and then enter it as a valid score?

“It’s only a few yards shorter and the lie is better”. Or how about this one – “I am not going to drag my clubs over there when the trail ends here – this tee will do.”

I could protest as much as I liked, but he just gave his usual smile. It was always hard to stay mad when he did that, but it always irked me, especially when I followed the rules.

What really grinds my gears is when people who break the rules always seem to do better. I suppose that I was ready to break the rules the next time he gave me an opportunity, but not the rules of golf.

“I really need to give up smoking,” he told me. “You are a pharmacist. Do any of these nicotine patches work?”

“Some do,” I said to him. “But they are still nicotine. Perhaps if you are ready to try something experimental … something that works miracles. There is no danger to your health but you will need to sign the disclaimer.”

“I’ll try it,” he said. “I trust you.”

It seemed apt. If he wanted to play off the ladies tee then try these patches. I doctored the first one with a low amount of nicotine on slow release, but after that it was pure transgender hormone treatment – blockers for the male hormones and estrogen to promote female sex characteristics including reduced muscle. That is why we have a ladies tee – right? To give the weaker sex an equal footing.

I figured that he would come to realize that all was not right, or he would drop the patches once the first pair failed to cure his smoking habit. It was just that it did not happen that way.

First of all, he stopped smoking. He said that the patches had worked and now he had never felt better in his life. I suggested that he could now drop the patches, but he said that he was not taking any chances. Then when there were some noticeable changes to his body like softening of the skin and muscle, he seemed unconcerned.

“Seriously, I feel great,” he said. “It is like the sun has come out. Everything looks brighter. I am not if it is what is in these patches or whether the smoking kept me down, but now I feel … up.”

He said that his hair was feeling softer and thicker too. He had more hair that me but like most guys our age he was worried about losing it. Now he said that he was going to wear it a little longer.

I was sure that I could see breasts growing on his chest under his polo shirt, but I was not about to comment. This was my fault. By that point it had gone way too far, but how could I stop him without explaining what I had done and suffering for it?

The he started to behave very strangely. He started to wear different clothes in pastel colors. Then when he turned up to play a round with me in short pants, I could see that his legs had been shaved.

“It was just an impulse,” he said. “They don’t look weird do they? I think that they look good?”

How could I disagree? They did look good. He looked good. He started to look less like the guy I knew. He had his teeth whitened to show off that smile I was talking about.

“I am just not getting the length in my drives any more,” he complained. “I really do need to play off the ladies’ tee to compete with you.”

I had to tell him. I had to say that I had tricked him into using patches that were not to help him quit smoking. I just told him everything. I begged his forgiveness.

“I will forgive you,” he said. “On one condition …”.

“Anything,” I said.

“I want you to take me out to dinner,” he said. “I have just bought a dress and I want to wear it out on a date, and you will do.”

The End

© Maryanne Peter 2022