Bar golf leaves group short one club

After receiving a wake-up call from my dear friend Sammy, I thought, "What better way to kick off the morning than with a blog and a Starbucks Iced Mocha."

Sammy, you are right. "Sopranos" did end a week ago and it is time for a new blog entry. I haven't forgotten about you lovely people, nor have I been short of interesting content for your eyes. Just a little short on hours. But, let's move on to the good stuff.

Last week for the IN column, I wrote about a rowdy group of bar golfers. The drunk and disorderly group of married men, with the exception of one or two guys, was over the top. And while I can tolerate and even enjoy watching people act like this, the bartenders at Stray Cat didn't seem share in my amusement.

"Most of the time I feel like I'm babysitting," Scott, one of the bartenders, said. "Don't do that, stop doing this, get your beer out of the ceiling fan."

I can understand Scott's frustration. He's the sheriff. It's his job to maintain order and keep the fun at a level that is fun for everyone. However, at the end of the night, justice was served when the group of guys left the bar and left their putter. Which has since ended up in my hands and on my desk. It's half-trophy and half a reminder that drinkers should know their limits, and I'm holding it ransom.