So, he drives his new Mercedes into a petrol station on the edge of a small village.
The petrol station attendant greets him in a typical Irish manner, pleased to see a flash car in the village and totally unaware who the golf pro is.
“Top o’ the mornin to ya – be fillin’ it up for ya, will we?”
Just as Rory gets out of the car to go for his wee, two tees fall out of his pocket onto the ground.
“What are those things, laddie?” the attendant asks him.
“They are called tees,” replies Rory.
“And what would ya be usin ’em for, now?” inquires the Irishman.
“Well, they are for resting my balls on when I drive,” replies Rory.
“Aw,Jaysus, Maryan’ Joseph!” exclaims the petrol station attendant. “Those fellas at Mercedes think of everything…”
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