I had moved to South Carolina from New York and at that time, a vehicle inspection was required to register my car.
I was nervous. My car was in rough shape. I thought of New York State's rigorous inspections. Any number of problems might turn up that would be expensive to fix.
I drove down a country road and found a garage that had an inspection sign. When I told the mechanic what I needed, he circled the car, turned on the lights and honked the horn.
Then he attached a new sticker and asked me for the $3 fee.
I was shocked.
"Is that all you have to do"? I asked.
He answered, "Well, you drove it here, didn't you"?
It was a sunny Saturday morning, and Murray was beginning his pre-shot routine, visualizing his upcoming shot when a voice came over the clubhouse loudspeaker. "Would the gentleman on the Ladies tee back up to the men's tee, please!"
Murray was still deep in his routine, seemingly oblivious to the interruption.
Again the announcement, "Would the MAN on the WOMEN'S tee, kindly back up to the men's tee!"
Murray had had enough. He broke his stance, lowered his driver back to the ground and shouted, "Would the announcer in the clubhouse kindly be quiet and let me play my second shot?"