Captain Jack's Seafood Grille
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Captain Jack's Seafood Grille
Captain Jack's Seafood Grille
A group of 15 year old boys discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at the McDonald's next to Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because they only had six dollars among them, they could ride their bikes there and Jennie Webster, that cute girl in Social Studies, lives on the same street and they might see her.
Ten years later, the group of now 25 year old guys discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the beer was cheap, the bar had free snacks, the house band was good, there was no cover charge and there were lot of cute girls.
Ten years later, at 35 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was decided they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grill because the booze was good, it was near their gym and, if they went late enough, there wouldn't be too many whiny little kids.
Ten years later, at 45, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the martinis were big and the waitresses wore tight pants.
Ten years later, now 55, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the prices were reasonable, they have a nice wine list and fish is good for your cholesterol.
Ten years later, at 65 years of age, the once again group discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the lighting was good and they have an early bird special.
Ten years later, at 75 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the food was not too spicy and the restaurant was handicapped accessible.
Ten years later, at 85 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because they had never been there before.
A group of 15 year old boys discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at the McDonald's next to Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because they only had six dollars among them, they could ride their bikes there and Jennie Webster, that cute girl in Social Studies, lives on the same street and they might see her.
Ten years later, the group of now 25 year old guys discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the beer was cheap, the bar had free snacks, the house band was good, there was no cover charge and there were lot of cute girls.
Ten years later, at 35 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was decided they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grill because the booze was good, it was near their gym and, if they went late enough, there wouldn't be too many whiny little kids.
Ten years later, at 45, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the martinis were big and the waitresses wore tight pants.
Ten years later, now 55, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the prices were reasonable, they have a nice wine list and fish is good for your cholesterol.
Ten years later, at 65 years of age, the once again group discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the lighting was good and they have an early bird special.
Ten years later, at 75 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because the food was not too spicy and the restaurant was handicapped accessible.
Ten years later, at 85 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. It was agreed they would meet at Captain Jack's Seafood Grille because they had never been there before.
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Re: Captain Jack's Seafood Grille
A father, son, and grandson went to the country club for their weekly round of golf. Just as they reached the first tee, a beautiful young blonde woman carrying her bag of clubs approached them.
She explained that the member who brought her to the club for a round of golf had an emergency that called him away, and asked the trio whether she could join them.
Naturally, the guys all agreed.
Smiling, the blonde thanked them and said, "Look fellows, I work in a topless bar as a dancer, so nothing shocks me anymore. If any of you want to smoke cigars, have a beer, bet, swear, tell off-color stories, or do anything that you normally do when playing a round together, go ahead. But, I enjoy playing golf, and consider myself pretty good at it, so don't try to coach me on how to play my shots.”
With that, the guys agreed to relax and invited her to drive first.
All eyes were fastened on her shapely behind as she bent over to place her ball on the tee. She then took her driver and hit the ball 270 yards down the middle, right in front of the green.
The father's mouth was agape. "That was beautiful," he said.
The blonde put her driver away and said, "I really didn't get into it, and I faded it a little.”
After the three guys hit their drives and their second shots, the blonde took out an eight iron and lofted the ball within five feet of the hole, closest to the pin.
The son said, "Damn, lady, you played that perfectly.”
The blonde frowned and said, "It was a little weak, but even an easy seven would have been too much club. I've left a tricky little putt." She then tapped in the five-footer for a birdie.
Having the honors, she drove first on the second hole,knocked the heck out of the ball, and it landed nearly 300 yards away, smack in the middle of the fairway.
For the rest of the round the statuesque blonde continued to amaze the guys, quietly and methodically shooting for par or less on every hole.
When they arrived at the 18th green, the blonde was three under par, and had a very nasty 12-foot putt on an undulating green for a par.
She turned to the three guys and said, "I really want to thank you all for not acting like a bunch of chauvinists and telling me what club to use or how to play a shot; but, I need this putt for a 69 and I'd really like to break 70 on this course.
If any one of you can tell me how to make or break par on this hole, I'll take him back to my apartment, pour some 35-year-old Single Malt Strath Mill Scotch in him, fix him a steak dinner, and then show him a very good time the rest of the night.”
The yuppie son jumped at the thought! He strolled across the green, carefully eyeing the line of the putt, and finally said, "Honey, aim about six inches to the right of the hole and hit it firm. It will get over that little hump and break right into the cup.”
The father knelt down and sighted the putt, using his putter as a plumb. "Don't listen to the kid, darling', you want to hit it softly 10 inches to the right, and let it run left down that little hogback, so it falls into the cup.”
The old gray-haired grandfather walked over to the blonde's ball, picked it up and handed it to her and said, "That's a gimme, sweetheart.”
The blonde smiled and said, "Your car or mine?"
She explained that the member who brought her to the club for a round of golf had an emergency that called him away, and asked the trio whether she could join them.
Naturally, the guys all agreed.
Smiling, the blonde thanked them and said, "Look fellows, I work in a topless bar as a dancer, so nothing shocks me anymore. If any of you want to smoke cigars, have a beer, bet, swear, tell off-color stories, or do anything that you normally do when playing a round together, go ahead. But, I enjoy playing golf, and consider myself pretty good at it, so don't try to coach me on how to play my shots.”
With that, the guys agreed to relax and invited her to drive first.
All eyes were fastened on her shapely behind as she bent over to place her ball on the tee. She then took her driver and hit the ball 270 yards down the middle, right in front of the green.
The father's mouth was agape. "That was beautiful," he said.
The blonde put her driver away and said, "I really didn't get into it, and I faded it a little.”
After the three guys hit their drives and their second shots, the blonde took out an eight iron and lofted the ball within five feet of the hole, closest to the pin.
The son said, "Damn, lady, you played that perfectly.”
The blonde frowned and said, "It was a little weak, but even an easy seven would have been too much club. I've left a tricky little putt." She then tapped in the five-footer for a birdie.
Having the honors, she drove first on the second hole,knocked the heck out of the ball, and it landed nearly 300 yards away, smack in the middle of the fairway.
For the rest of the round the statuesque blonde continued to amaze the guys, quietly and methodically shooting for par or less on every hole.
When they arrived at the 18th green, the blonde was three under par, and had a very nasty 12-foot putt on an undulating green for a par.
She turned to the three guys and said, "I really want to thank you all for not acting like a bunch of chauvinists and telling me what club to use or how to play a shot; but, I need this putt for a 69 and I'd really like to break 70 on this course.
If any one of you can tell me how to make or break par on this hole, I'll take him back to my apartment, pour some 35-year-old Single Malt Strath Mill Scotch in him, fix him a steak dinner, and then show him a very good time the rest of the night.”
The yuppie son jumped at the thought! He strolled across the green, carefully eyeing the line of the putt, and finally said, "Honey, aim about six inches to the right of the hole and hit it firm. It will get over that little hump and break right into the cup.”
The father knelt down and sighted the putt, using his putter as a plumb. "Don't listen to the kid, darling', you want to hit it softly 10 inches to the right, and let it run left down that little hogback, so it falls into the cup.”
The old gray-haired grandfather walked over to the blonde's ball, picked it up and handed it to her and said, "That's a gimme, sweetheart.”
The blonde smiled and said, "Your car or mine?"
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