The following is an honest account of a conversation I overheard at the Riverbend Driving Range on Thursday in Kent, WA, during my noon lunch break. And nope, this isn't some fictional web story, either.

"TJ" is a 17-18 year old, freckle-faced, lanky but athletic kid working behind the counter at the driving range. He speaks in a dry, mildly uninterested tone typical of teenagers. Between customers he dashes out to the range in the stall behind me and smashes balls until someone shows up at the counter. TJ can hit the golf ball a long way, but is a tad inconsistent.

"Dude friend" (DF) is in his mid-20's and apparently knows TJ enough to strike up a conversation.

DF: Hey TJ! What's up, man? How are you?

TJ: Good man. Just workin'.

DF: Cool. You out of school?

TJ: Mostly.

DF: Cool, cool. Graduating?

TJ: Yeah...next week.

DF: Nice, man, nice! Going to college?

TJ: (perking up a little) Yeah, I've got a hockey and golf scholarship.

DF: Oh man, that's cool! Where?

TJ: St. (inaudible)

DF: (slightly perplexed). Huh. Never heard of it. Small school?

TJ: Yeah, pretty small. Like (inaudible) people. It's in Maine. It's private...and kind of a tough school to get into.

DF: Hockey and golf?

TJ: (again perking up): Yeah, it's insane. Hockey starts right after golf.

DF: That's nuts. (pausing) Tough to get into, huh? Your grades must be good.

TJ: Ah, I've got a 2.3.

DF: Oh... sounds like it might be a little tough...

TJ: (drolly) I guess.

DF: How'd you get the scholarship?

TJ: It's like this school is like totally hard to get into, ya know? But my grandpa's on the Supreme Court up there, so he knows some people....

DF: Oh yeah! People are good to have....

TJ:...and, ya know, so he helped get me in by talking to some people, ya know? He's got this terrible swing? Want to see it?

DF: Sure...

TJ proceeds to imitate and mock his grandfather's swing.

DF: (chuckling) Man, you're grandpa hits it that far with that swing?

TJ: Nah, did you see that crazy lift thing I did? That's how he swings. It's cr-azy!

DF: Got it. (pausing).

TJ: And he's this short dude, but it's cool. I played golf with him.

DF: So it sounds like you'll have to work hard at this place.

TJ: (slightly serious) This place....man, I'm telling you....like only 1% of the entire school got into the school with my grades, ya know? But it's cool. I mean, my roommate has like a 4.0-something. And I have scholarship...

DF: I see....what're you gonna study?

TJ: Sports management.

DF: Sports management?

TJ: Yeah, it'll be cool. I know most of the stuff already. I'll be busy with hockey and shit....so it won't require me to concentrate much...

DF: Yeah...well, OK. I gotta run, man. Take care and good luck in school.

TJ: Yeah, cool. Later.

My only question to you is, how many comments are making to yourself right now about young master TJ here? In the dozens or hundreds?

I had many. I'll share these three:

1. I'd like to wrap my 7-iron around TJ's head. But I hit it too well. So I'll use my 4-iron instead.
2. Makes you want to punch his father in the nuts so he doesn't produce any more off spring.
3. Any body care to rat out a Supreme Court judge in Maine?