I can’t believe I didn’t tell this story as a part of my Weekend Update post from Charleston. I hope you find it funny because I surely did.
It all began on our way to Charleston. We were meeting Britt and Ellis there and were a couple hours ahead of them, so we were coasting, taking our time. Typically, Josh and I are the drive-without-stopping roadtrippers, but Friday allowed us to make some pitstops. Thank goodness because that’s how I got to eat Varsity and how this story happened. Well, we had made it to Augusta (a place neither of us had been) so we decided to take the exit and explore. The only thing we knew about Augusta was that The Masters is held there, so I typed in Augusta National to GPS. Little did we know what all was about to happen.
For those of you who don’t know, August National isn’t far from the Interstate. It’s actually very easy to get to. That being said, Josh and I found it with ease. We pulled into the first entrance, and a large wooden door hindered us from entering. No problem; we’ll just go to the next one.
When we got there, the door was open. Yes, I knew this was an extremely private club, but what could it hurt to just drive through? Act like you know what you’re doing, right? Wrong. We pulled into the club and were taking our first right when a man in uniform with a hat ran after us shaking his head. Josh and I immediately pulled out our innocent, “uh oh” faces as the man sternly looked at us and motioned for us to exit. Sadly, we didn’t get to tour Augusta National, but we can say that we’ve seen it, gone inside, and were kicked out. How’s that for a road trip story?