The Displaced Texan Chronicles

The Displaced Texan Chronicles

When I first got up to the Pacific North Wet (that’s not a typo, I know it says Wet), I legitimately was going to try and assimilate myself at least marginally to the point of not feeling combative towards my new neighbors. Much to my legitimate efforts to try and get along, these fuckers just don’t get it.

While house hunting before moving up here I came across a townhouse that was actually going to be fairly close to my work, so I thought I’d go take a look. While touring the house the lady that owned it was making small talk with me and found out I was moving hear from Austin. When you say you’re from Austin people immediately assume your a hipster and that you think Bernie Saunders is probably too conservative for your liking. Well, that’s not me.

She began talking about the area and was explaining to me how there’s a great wine bar around the block that tons of single guys go to on weeknights if I was interested in meeting people. This “lady” couldn’t quite figure out that based on the fact that my rental car was a truck….that I was wearing Wranglers and cowboy boots that literally have my name on them along with the Texas State Seal….that I probably wasn’t going to be into “meeting people at a wine bar on Tuesday nights.” In fact, I’d rather slam my dick in said truck door than do that, but I digress.

When I asked her about Seattle as a whole, she described East of Seattle as a place full of inbred rednecks who own fewer teeth than pickup trucks. She and I clearly hit it off.

I initially cast that off as one single dumbass in what was probably a nice place to live….until yesterday. With my wife and son still about a week away from arriving, I’ve been playing golf as much as I can before the twins we are expecting come along later this year. So I decided to spend Saturday golfing in a balmy 48 degree day down at Chamber’s Bay.

Chamber’s Bay as a course is fucking phenomenal. I’d have it slightly behind the Ocean Course at Kiawah Island, but it’s a firm #2 for courses I’ve played. The people out there, though? Not so much.

I found a $70 tee time online and thought I’d give it a whirl just for shits ‘n gigs. I was pleasantly surprised with the experience. As I made my way down to the first tee, I met up with my group for the day and the first thing they asked me was if I was from Texas. They assumed correctly based on my tan, the large dip in my mouth, Team USA golf shoes and the fact that I introduced myself with a “hey y’all.”

Their first response to me was “you don’t look like a steer so you must be a queer because I’ve heard those two things are all that Texas produces.” Great start man. We are really gonna hit it off.

As the group was trying to figure out what they were betting on for the day, they asked if I wanted to get in on the action. I was asked what I play as and I knew on this particular day, with my state being shit on, it wasn’t going to matter because I was going to beat these dudes into the fucking ground. I told them I was about a scratch and they agreed to let me play as a 5 because “golf is way different up here than in Texas.” Okay, bro.

Channeling my inner Jordan Spieth, the great state of Texas once again fucking torched Chamber’s Bay and put the competition into the dirt. Our “bet” was called off after I walked off 15 green -3 and was up by about 20.

Would I have played that well if they hadn’t shit on Texas? Probably not. The 2-iron stayed in the bag and I pulled driver every hole. If I didn’t have honors the entire time, each drive would have sailed past theirs.

I try really hard not to be arrogant on the golf course despite being an avid follower of NLU, a big-time favorite of the PGP staff. With that being said, when you fuck with Texas then I’m going to fuck you right back.

Image via Shutterstock

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Kiawah Island Strip Club

I'd rather be golfing. Seattle sucks so I write about that. Also work...ish in recruiting. Shoot your resume to for any and all job hunt questions.

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