Powered by Blogger.

Putt-Putt with Alligators


This post brings me to the last of my St. Petersburg/ Clearwater posts. I've had a grand ol' time reliving my favorite moments through these posts.

I saved one of my most favorite moments for this last post.

It's about spontaneity. It's about personal triumph.

It's about putt-putt.

After our gorgeous walk along Indian Shores beach, Landon and I wanted some ice cream. In usual Landon-and-Natalie fashion, we started walking aimless down the road, assuming that there was an ice cream store nearby. It's a small coastal town--there HAS to be ice cream every ten feet. It's a rule.

We never did find that ice cream store because we got severely distracted by this sign:

The clouds parted and the angels sang and we decided that our lives were not worth continuing until we went and played putt-putt. Now.

The store attendant was friendly and convinced us to buy the alligator feed for the resident alligators (more on that in a minute). She saw me coming because she totally had me convinced that the alligators were trained to crawl off the paths if you made this special noise. I started inching backwards out of the little hut, giving Landon the oh-my-gosh-we-can't-do-this look. I didn't get that the joke was on me until Landon and the attendant started making these weird guffawing noises. (About as weird as the word "guffaw.")

Silly Natalie. Like anyone would ever assume the liability of having alligators roaming 'round the place.

After Landon and the attendant had their full laugh at my expense, we collected our golf balls (orange for Landon, purple for me--Go Tigers!) and headed out to do battle on the course.

And by "do battle," I mean, "figure out which one of us was the least bad."

When it comes to golf, my parents had good intentions. When I was 9, they enrolled me in the junior golf training with my 6-year-old sister. Apparently, I have delusions of grandeur because I remember being the junior golf champion at the end-of-course challenge. My sister assures me that no such thing happened. Difference of opinion.

Anyway, I was ready to take my (lack of) junior golf skills and get that hole in one. Landon laughed and told me that there's no way I'd ever get a hole in one. (Spoiler alert: I SHOWED HIM!)

I'm about to get a hole in one! (Don't worry, Tiger Woods. It was completely incidental.)
Check out that excellent form. Ha! Totally kidding--I have no clue what a good golf form looks like.
Lining up the shot. 
Come here, little gators!
After the third or fourth hole, there was a little feeding platform where we got to feed the gators.
I know this is going on way too long for a story about mini golf, so let me sum it up with this:

Putt-putt is awesome, even if you have to take the max stroke number on every hole.

And putt-putt where you get to feed alligators is even more awesome.*

About those alligators:
The putt-putt company gets them from a farm and brings them to live in the pond in the middle of the course until they get bigger. Then, the alligators go...do something else. The store attendants hedged around what actually happened after they left. I'm thinking that they go onto grace people's plates and handbags. RIP alligators.