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This is a true incident that happened to my cousin, Steve.
--
  Steve is an avid golfer. Goes to tournaments, golfs every weekend, LIVES
for golf. Normally plays very good.  However, Steve tells of one game,
about half way through, when his score went right down the toilet.  He
was playing pretty good until...
  Steve had recently moved from out-of-state to Boise, Idaho. One weekend as
he played a round of golf on one of the more popular courses in town, he
caught up with two other golfers on the course. Steve asked if they would
mind if he "played through" and got ahead of them. The older man, seeing that
Steve was by himself, invited Steve to join them and play as a group.  Steve
thought that that would be alright, introduced himself, "Hello, I'm Steve
Welker." and offered his hand.
  The older gentleman shook it and said, "Hello, Steve. I'm John Evans and
this is my son." and he introduced the younger man with him.
  They started to play the next hole. John said, "Where are you from, Steve?
You new here in Idaho?"
  Steve remarked that as-a-matter-of-fact he had just moved into Idaho from
Portland, Oregon where he had been most of his life.
  John asked, "What do you do here in Idaho, Steve?"
  Steve replied, "Well, I'm a private investigator. I investigate cases of
insurance fraud and court settlements." Steve went on to talk about some of
the things he had done, crawling through underbrush for hours with a camera
to take pictures of a "handicapped" man hauling wood, a prostitute that was
suing in an auto accident case, and such. (But those are another story.)
  After a bit, though, Steve felt guilty because he had been doing all the
talking, he said, "What do you do, John?"
  John's face got one of those 'I-thought-you-would-never-ask' looks as he
said, "Well, Steve, I'm the Governor of Idaho!"
  And it is at that point that Steve's score went down the toilet.

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