We shot the Bishop today. He showed up late in his Bentley sporting a pair of phat Gucci loafers that I had the green eyed monster for. I explained we would be shooting in a bunch of different locations and that he needed to get his own separate golf cart because mine was full of gear.
It was as if I asked him if he wouldn’t mind donating a kidney right there and then on the 18th green. It was clear he was not used to doing things for himself. An unfortunate parishioner happened to be passing by and was instructed by the Bishop to fetch the cart with great dispatch.
I was shooting the Bishop in a far corner of the course when the golf pro pulled up in a cart. He waited patiently while we finished and then walked up to the Bishop and handed him a envelope stuffed to capacity. I could not see the contents but it sure looked like a prop from The Sopranos.
In that moment it was obvious things were not as they seemed and I was indeed far far from home.
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