Reviewing Miami and then some. Gratuitous vulgarity included.

Palmetto Mini Golf

Leave it to white aristocrats to create the most debased, self-indulgent, wanton thing human beings do by taking acres upon acres of perfectly livable, arable land, adding 18 little holes to it, and then scoffing at minorities. The tiny variety, however, isn’t as evil.

Sometimes I get an intense desire to do a certain activity, or to eat a certain food, and this time it happened to be mini golf. I hadn’t played in a while, and mini golf isn’t exactly your typical go-to Miami fun activity so I wasn’t sure where to go. This would be one of the few times I ever used Yelp for its intended purposes. I went on Yelp and tried searching for “mini golf” and received no relevant results. So I posted a thread titled, “Where can an N-word play some mini golf?” It was promptly removed likely due to some pussy-ass pussies flagging the use of the phrase I used to describe the word I didn’t use. People like that make me sick. They’re the same kind who count calories and say things like, “Actually, the plural for octopus is octopodes.” If I could go back in time to kill Hitler, I wouldn’t kill him, instead I would tell him, “Actually, you should kill these people instead…”

“Where can an N-word play some mini golf?”

Thanks to some Google-fu, I stumbled upon the Palmetto Bay golf course’s mini golf area. Just take Dixie Highway south and make a right on BFE, you can’t miss it. Mini golf is one of those places where you can start off being ultra-competitive but it can quickly change to utter apathy. My female and I were talking shit at each other about how badly we’re going to whoop the other’s ass. I’m telling her I’m going to beat her so bad she’ll need to pay my bail, and she’s telling me she’s going to embarrass me worse than those short shorts I’m wearing. I don’t have a photo of me in those shorts, but I’ve provided an artist’s rendering.

How short were those shorts?

I dressed like an Italian tourist.

With all the shit-talking out of the way, we started playing. The first hole is simple enough, and it’s what you expect starting off. When we got to the second hole we encountered a couple where the guy was having a tough time and the woman was off to the side laughing her ass off at him. He would hit the ball about 10 inches from the hole, but he would hit it like it stole from him. With each hit, his lady would cackle gleefully and he’d act like he wasn’t frustrated, but he clearly wanted to pick that ball up and throw it at the nearest Asian baby. On the second hole we waited MINUTES for him to finish +38 strokes.

As you progress through the course, you start noticing that each hole doesn’t really get all that difficult. There’s a distinct lack of hazards you’re used to seeing in mini golf courses; stuff like windmills or other intermittent hole-blockers don’t really exist there. That is, unless you count all the tiny fucking pebbles and twigs scattered everywhere. I swear, I made a shot once solely because a pebble redirected it.

This golf experience is fine, but really, I want some weird shit in there. What ever happened to the mechanical hippos that open and close their mouth between you and the hole, did Hasbro send a cease and desist letter? What about the castle with the surrounding moat? Or what about the 5-year-old troublemaking little fuck whose parents raised him to be a piece of shit who picks up other people’s balls and chucks them in a horribly inaccessible part of the course? I feel like it’s missing some of that dynamic action.

With that said, I’d still do it again. Mostly because I whooped my girlfriend’s ass at it. I’m talking double-digit lead.

Also, there’s a Sports Grill on site.

So where the hell is it?
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2 Comments to Palmetto Mini Golf

  1. Pingback: CrazyGolf
  2. Dev

    I like how you consider that BFE

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