So after the round, Gulliver and I hit a couple of liquor stores. The first was a den of miserable human existence that included off-track betting and cheap, handle sized whiskey. I thought we might be able to find a dusty or two there, but no dice. We did, however, find a bottle of Old Fitzgerald with a misspelling on the back.
All and all, even though our golf games sucked, our bourbon game was excellent. We were able to snag some great whiskey at fair prices. And these days, that is almost asking too much.