by Alex Poletti
After years of convincing him that the Monterey Peninsula would be the perfect spot for a romantic weekend getaway, your husband has finally acquiesced and admitted that a few days there could be nice, coincidentally changing his stance as the US Open approaches.
“You know, honey, you’re totally right, we should go to Pebble Beach,” your husband, who has several ‘I’d Rather Be Golfing’ towels draped in the guest bathroom, says. “It would be great for us to spend some time together. Just you, me, Rory McIlroy, Jordan Spieth and Phil Mickelson.”
Your husband, who has never been one for travel, is suddenly jumping at the chance to spend some long-awaited alone time with you, despite the fact that he previously declined a vacation in Venice and a work conference in Mexico.
“It’ll be perfect for the two of us,” your husband continues, hiding his already-purchased tickets behind his back. “We could find all of the spots from that ‘Big Little Lies’ show you like and go wine tasting in Carmel Valley.”
You, never much of a golf fan, are wary at his sudden readiness to take a trip down to Monterey. The last thing you want is to relive your honeymoon, when he duped you into going to Northeastern Georgia so he could play the Augusta National Golf Club course. Trying to hide his golf clubs from you as he packs, he lists all of the touristy benefits of the area, omitting the iconic 18th green and storied history of US Opens past.
“Just think about everything we can do there!” your husband continues. “No, those aren’t my golf clubs, what are you talking about? Babe, just listen to what I’m saying, don’t look at what I’m doing. Let’s be spontaneous, let’s go on an adventure. And let’s get to Monterey within the day because I sure as hell am not missing the practice rounds.”