When “Doing Anything” For a Friend Goes Wrong

Thanksgiving 2010

It started when I woke up with a migraine one Saturday morning.  I was in bed with my head under a pillow drowsy from taking mega doses of Excedrin PM the night before.  And then I got the call.  A college friend, MiCherie, desperately needed my help.  I could barely talk, but I managed to say “yes” to a friend in need.

A few weeks earlier we were playing miniature golf at a local course and signed up for a contest.  The prize… 4 bicycles!  MiCherie caled to say she had won a bike and she wanted me to pick it up for her.  I had to pick it up by 10 AM.  She was on her way out of town to see her parents.

I drug myself out of bed and got to the miniature the golf course disheveled, with morning breath and still in my pajama top and jeans.  I told them I was Mycherie and instead of giving me the bicycle, they pointed to a group of 3 young boys under 10 years of age.  “That is your team.”

Team?  Now I find out that you have to play golf to win the bike.  There were 4 four groups of 4 you kids each.  I was the only adult.  The team that won the game of golf would take home four bicycles.  I felt sick at my stomach, but managed to take a club and follow the boys to help everyone win a bicycle.

My headache had lessened and I took my club and began the game.  These kids were seriously intent on winning a bike and looked unhappy to have drawn an adult to be on their team.  Co-dependently, I didn’t want to let anyone down, so now I was playing for than my friend.

After the 3rd hole, when we were doing pretty good, a big Crysler pulled up next to the white picket fence surrounding the course.  I didn’t pay any attention until I heard, “Jean!  What are you doing here?”

My headache came thundering back.   I looked up to see another real snooty college friend.  Trying to not confuse the little boys, I said, “Well, we are trying to win a bicycle.”  She exclaimed, “Well, I came down here to see Mycherie play.  Where is she?”

I didn’t realize that the radio station sponsoring the contest  was owned by Miss Snooty’s husband.  With her hands planted in her hips she informed me that I couldn’t get away with fraud.  Fraud?!  The kids are beginning to notice.  Then Miss Snoot leans over and says, “If your team loses, I won’t say anything, but if you win, I must bring it to their attention.”  And she was just pious enough to do it.

I was now determined to lose this game to save my face.  We moved on to Hole #5.  I took my turn, aimed away from the hole and hit.  The ball unbelievably found it’s way to the hole!  The kids were ecstatic and were playing really well.  We seemed to have the best team of all groups.  My head was pounding and my stomach was not happy.

As we moved through the course I tried to keep my ball from going in the hole but like a magnet, it went in no matter where I aimed.  Things were not looking good.

From Hole #8 until the end, no matter where we aimed our balls, our score was well under par.  The kids were jumping up and down thinking they would be the winners for sure.  I could only hope that the other 3 teams were doing better.

The judges huddled behind the desk calculating scores.  Ms. Snoot approached me and said, “Your team has won and I cannot let you get away with this.”  I pleaded!  “Please don’t!  I won’t take a bike.  Give it to someone else.”  But Miss Puritanical marched up to the judges and turned me in.  The glares will never be forgotten.

The owner took all of the kids, including me, to a small storage room and revealed my true identity.  All I wanted was to get out of there!  The owner said that we would have a vote and decide whether the kids could win the bikes.  Every other kid voted to not give them a bike even though it wasn’t their fault and the second place team won the bicycles.

I apologized to the kids.  If I’d had enough money, I would have bought them all bicycles.  About to vomit, I ducked out headed back to the pillow I’d left a few hours earlier.

The 3 little boys are probably telling their story about how they lost a bicycle because of an adult impostor.   Over the years, I’ve wondered if I could have done anything differently.  Should I have been more bold and talked to the judges myself?  Should I have flattened Linda?  Bought the kids bikes.  Shoulda’ woulda’ coulda?   I learned that no matter what, when asked to do something for someone, be sure to take care of yourself first.  Lesson learned.