A guy stood over his tee shot for what seemed an eternity, looking up, looking down, measuring the distance, figuring the wind direction and speed.
He was driving his partner nuts.
Finally his exasperated partner asks, “What’s taking so long? For God’s sake hit the blasted ball!”
The guy answers, “My wife is up there watching me from the clubhouse. I want to make this a perfect shot.”
“Forget it, man,” said his partner, “you don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of hitting her from here!”