Rock was back in college, standing on an outside deck at the student union, bullshitting with his buddies when a friend arrived. He was a blonde-headed, tall and skinny nerdish freshman known for his sometimes comical naivete.
"Where have you been?" Rock said.
"I just got in from golfing."
"Oh yeah. How'd you do?"
"Not very well. Man, I played for almost three hours without a one?"
"Without a one? What does that mean?"
"You know, I didn't hit a hole in one."
"So you're telling me you're disappointed that you didn't hit a hole in one?" Rock said.
Everyone went quiet for a second or two, followed by a cacophony of loud eighteen- to twenty-two-year-old voices filled with shop worn phrases of skepticism like "bullshit," and "fuck, get out of here."
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