A man was golfing. He walked up to a woman standing¹ nearby him and said, "I'm sorry, I can't seem to remember what hole I'm on." And the woman replied, "Well, I'm on hole 6, and you are one hold behind me, so you must be on hole 5." He thanked her and walked away.

A few minutes later he approached her. Again he asked the same question, "I can't remember what hole I'm on. Can you tell me?" And again the woman replied, "Well I'm on hole 10, and you're one hole behind me, so you must be on hole 9."

That was the last time he spoke² to her, and they both finished their games seperately.

Later that night the man saw the woman at a bar. He walked up to her and started up a conversation. Making small talk, he asked her what she did for a living. "I don't want to say. You'll laugh," she replied. "Oh, give me a shot. Just tell me who you work for." "Well, ok. But promise not to laugh." (He promised.)

"I work for Tampax, you know, the feminine³ protection company." After she spoke, the man started cracking up. "See? I told you you'd laugh," she said. "No, no," the man said. "It's not that. It's just that I work for Preparation-H, so I'm always one hole behind you!!"

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