A father, son and grandson go out to the country club
for their
weekly round of golf. Just as they reach the first
tee, a beautiful
young blonde woman carrying her bag of clubs
approaches them. She
explains that the guy who brought her to the club for
a round of
golf had an emergency, which called him away and asks
the trio
whether she can join them.

Naturally, the guys all agree. Smiling, the blonde
thanks them and
says, "Look, fellows, I work in a topless bar as a
dancer, so nothing
shocks me anymore. If any of you wants to smoke
cigars, have a
beer, bet, swear or tell off-color stories or do
anything that you
normally do when playing a round together, go ahead.
But I enjoy
playing golf. I consider myself pretty good at it, so
don't try to
coach me on how to play."

With that the guys agree to relax and invite her to
drive first.
All eyes were fastened on her shapely behind as she
bent over during
the round. Long and straight tee shots, coupled with
stunning iron
and short-game play, left them breathless with more
than just her
superior looks.

When they get to the 18th green, the blonde is 3 under
par, but has a
very nasty 12-foot putt on an undulating green for a
par. She turns
to the three guys and says, "I really want to thank
you all for not
acting like a bunch of chauvinists and telling me what
club to use or
how to play a shot, but I need this putt for a 69 and
I'd really like
to break 70 on this course. If any one of you can tell
me how to
make par on this hole, I'll take him back to my
apartment, pour some
25-year old Haig & Haig Scotch in him, fix him dinner,
and then show
him a good time the rest of the night."

The yuppie son jumps at the thought. He strolls across
the green,
carefully eyes the line of the putt and finally says,
"Honey, aim
about 6 inches to the right of the hole and hit it
firm. It will
get over that little hump and break right into the
cup."

The father kneels down and sights the putt using his
putter as a
plumb. "Don't listen to the kid, darlin', you want to
hit it
softly, 10 inches to the right and run it left down
that little
hogback so it falls into the cup."

The old gray-haired grandfather walks over to the
blonde's ball on
the green, picks it up and hands it to her. "That's a
gimme,
sweetheart. Your car or mine?"