The Cactus Wins.

This is a cactus:

This is my foot:

(Well... feet. But this only applies to one foot, the left one specifically)

Normally these two things would never be placed in mixed company, but today... somehow... they were. That's right, after living almost 5 years in this great state of Arizona, I have never come in personal contact with a cactus, until today. Let me set the scene for you....

This morning I am out on the course playing a couple holes with another employee. We had only hit a few and were heading to the next hole when I jump out of the cart and head over to the ladies tee box. I am wearing my white Toms because all I have are my mother's old clown golf  shoes and they are too big. I am talking over my shoulder, not paying attention, when all of the sudden the side of my foot brushes with this falling broken piece of terrifying cactus and at least 6-100 barbed needles are in the side of my foot, through the pathetically fabric-ed Toms. Of course I remain perfectly calm and do not over react whatsoever... yeah right I am going ballistic yelling, "Mark, MARK get this out of my foot, get it outtt!" 

Mark remains extremely unnerved and grabs a towel to somehow grab the cactus (because that's what I scream at him to do). Of course the needles go right through the towel and as soon as he places it on my foot the pain increases tremendously and I might have spoken a little bit of French at that point. He finally rips it out and I am convinced that once I pull my shoe off the whole left side of my foot will be detached from my body but alas, just a few pinholes. 

Why is it the things that can hurt the most in life leave the least amount of evidence? Just recreating this terrible act in my mind is making my knees go weak... And the whole time we continued to play I had an increased awareness of the plants surrounding me. I also noticed I was becoming a bit more paranoid. 

Please watch out for the cactus.

Boom. Cactused...posted.