Whilst taking down the details of a young couple that were wanting to join our mailing list at work, I was told that the name of their street was ‘Sandwich Grove’ (which is hilarious because a grove is like a woody area where you grow shit, so… it’s where you grow sandwiches?). I laughed to myself a little, and they told me that all of the streets near them had golf related names, because they were near a famous golf course. The man began spouting off a few amusing examples, like ‘Green Lane’ and ‘Bunker Street’, until I chimed in and said ‘Just down the road from Drive Drive, I assume?’, which is a fucking terrific joke, because a drive is obviously a golf shot, but also, like, a driveway leading into a cul-de-sac. Get it? Get it? The man laughed and the lady laughed and repeated it out loud, and I quietly basked in the reverence of my customers, and the pride that it instills in me, and after they left my co-worker was like ‘That was fucking shit’, because apparently she doesn’t appreciate my genius.

Philistine.