How to Tell If You're Good at Golf

I had a flat tire last night so we made dinner at my apartment- fajitas.  A classic.  Today I called AAA.  The truck arrived within 20 minutes and Juan let me know that my tire was fine, just fine. It just needed a whole lot of air and a patch.  He said he would direct me to a gas station down the road.  I called my dad to let him know I was following him to a gas station down the street.  Just in case.

This post is really just meant to praise the Shell Gas Station on Lee Highway just after the entrance to Route 66.  Martin, the Manager, saw my golf clubs when I took them out of the trunk (turned out my tire wasn't fine, just fine.  Pedro put on the spare and made me promise twice that I would not put it back on my car before letting me keep the tire).  

Martin asked me if I was good at golf.  I said, "No."  He said, "That's how you know you're good at golf!  You said you're bad."  So, I said, "In that case, I'm awesome."  He laughed and shook his head.  He said, "One day I will see you on TV and then you will come back here and we will take a picture with you and put it on our wall.  I'll say I knew you were great at golf."  I promised him that I would return.  I wouldn't forget the quick, entertaining, and nice employees of the Shell station.  The tire change cost $20.  I need to seek out more random, wonderful encounters.