Three Austrians meet after work to buy cheap shitty ice skates from their low budget. No question, the cheapest stuff is to be found at the Salvation Army. I have never been to a Salvation Army before.
The concept is simple: You give old stuff that you don’t need to the Salvation Army (for free), and they sell it cheaply to people who don’t have a lot of money to spend. The earned money is used for charity.

We get a little lost, so I ask a man in front of a mission. His index- and middle finger are grown together and he has some problems speaking and is very nice. Finally, we find the Salvation Army store on 1620 Rue Notre-Dame O, Montréal. It is a warehouse-styled, two story high store. Unfortunately, my camera is having intercourse with my apartment room and was therefore not available, so I have to describe what I see:
Long rows of clothing in the entrance area, tightly pushed together. There is no need to play the prestige of empty space here – just too many clothes to fit the available, large space. The store is about 100 meters long and 20 meters wide. First, there are shirts. Then Jeans. Jackets, suits, pants, coats follow. You go through a big, open door and come into a room where there are old TVs, stereo sets, golf clubs, swimming vests, ice hockey equipment and ice skates.

We discover that the ice skates are all made for little girls – typical female shape, and too small to even fit our hands inside the shoes.
“Look, those golf clubs. Must be really cheap.”
“Yeah, let’s go golfing!”
The only thing missing are golf outfits. Well, Salvation Army has them too.

Hat: 2$
Vest: 4$
Golf club: 5$
Golf balls: 2$
Paint leftovers from camera rape: pretty much no $
Golfing in deep snow on a Saturday at 9 in the morning: priceless.

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to the right the painted balls, to the left my nose…

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Customized balls for Austrian pimps in the colors of our flag. One of the many patriotic moments that I have abroad.


the reserve ammunition: walnuts, surrounded by splinters of red paint that fell off when we hit the golf balls


Chris eating his main nutritious supplement: Donuts. Stefan about to send another Austrian flag to Nirvana. The red color enables us to find some of the balls after they land under the thick snow blanket.


Le Messieurs du golf fanatstique: Chris, Stefan et Tobi Bond.

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It’s on bitch – after a while our technique advances and actually hitting the ball with the club becomes a constant sight on our golf course at the foot of Mount Royal. The enemy is imminent and threatening, highly active at 9 in the morning with the sole purpose to destroy our culture of sleeping through until noon: The fucking joggers. One time, I make a too good shot and nearly hit one of them from a distance of 100 meters. That made me proud.

Basic golf rules: (at least that’s what we do)

  1. Stand sidewise to the shooting direction. Legs stretched. Take the golf club in both hands, and stretch the arm that is closer to the ball. Twist you upper body, swing and SMACK – hit one of these amateur joggers.
  2. If the ball is right in front of you, it will leave in a 20-degree-angle or so. The further you step to the side where you swing, the higher the ball will take off since it is hit later in the circular swinging motion. The further you sidestep in the shooting direction, the flatter the ball will take off. If you step too far, nothing will take off but the face of one of your fellow golfers.

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