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Mini Golf at Pier 25 is awesome!

Photo by George Courtney An awesome afternoon at Pier 25: Jurgen Munster, Rev. Jen and Cheyenne Picardo.
Photo by George Courtney
An awesome afternoon at Pier 25: Jurgen Munster, Rev. Jen and Cheyenne Picardo.

Rev. Jen, on “Four!” for $5

BY REV. JEN (revjen.com)  |  Mini Golf is completely underrated. It’s actually way more fun than “real” golf because you don’t need a caddy or a lot of money to do it and there’s not a lot of walking involved. Also, you can talk on a Mini Golf course (nothing annoys me more than activities that require silence). So you can imagine my joy upon learning that Tribeca’s Pier 25 (at North Moore & West Streets) offers Mini Golf for only five dollars. I put the word out that this needed to happen immediately and my friends — Cheyenne Picardo (director of the film “Remedy”), Jurgen Munster (lead singer of The Slut Junkies) and George Courtney (brilliant photographer whose photos can be seen herein) — all eagerly agreed to join me. Our first attempt was rained out, but the following day was perhaps the most beautiful in the history of the world — 75 degrees and sunny with no humidity. Good thing, because I wanted to wear a ridiculous golfing outfit. Sadly, I could not afford pants with little whales on them, so I had to settle on a psychedelic poly pantsuit given to me by the Lunachicks over a decade ago. We gathered early at my place, drank wine and watched “Caddyshack” clips for inspiration, all of us longing for a madras blazer similar to Rodney Dangerfield’s. After much procrastination, we embarked on our journey west.

At the Pier’s snack bar, we each paid five dollars and procured colorful balls and clubs. An extra dollar procured bananas and chips, which along with our flask of whiskey, would provide nourishment.

Before we began, Jurgen donned a Skeletor mask — his interpretation of what a wacky golf outfit should be. Cheyenne’s attire consisted of smart slacks and a summer hat akin to something Frank Sinatra might wear, while George chose to dress like a normal person.

From the first hole on, I remembered something: I am terrible at mini golf. But given I once played hockey, I simply “dribble” the ball into the hole (which I am told is “cheating”). The rest of the crew wasn’t quite as bad as I was, though we were much slower than the children behind us who whined about our slow candyass nature. However, George did get a hole in one and I was the only one who saw it. Trying to explain this rare phenomenon made me feel like Big Bird attempting to explain a Snuffleupagus sighting, as no one believed me. Meanwhile, Jurgen and Cheyenne managed to put it in a few times and Jurgen celebrated each “score” by thrusting his club in the air and making strange animal noises — which, combined with his skeleton mask, disturbed the entire “golf course.”

Sadly, at one point, Cheyenne’s purple ball got lost in the “mini-lake” and we had to thrust our hands deep into the water to retrieve it (thus further infuriating the children behind us). Soon after, we missed our opportunity to mischievously sip from our flask whilst in the “cave” section because we were so caught up in the game. Finally, at the 15th hole, Jurgen’s blue ball got lost in the bushes and we couldn’t find it. Eventually we let the golfers behind us skip ahead and aborted our blue ball search and rescue mission. For the next three holes, Jurgen borrowed my pink ball. Because we weren’t keeping score, by the 18th hole, we were all winners (though I really do suck at mini golf.) When we returned to the snack bar and explained that we’d lost a blue ball in the bushes, the proprietor simply said, “That’s fine. We’ll find it.” Apparently, he’s used to mini golf madness.

For what it’s worth, Mini Golf at Pier 25 is awesome. Sure it’s not a “theme” Mini Golf course with animatronic pirates. Yet at five bucks, it’s less than half the price of a movie. You might lose a ball or two, maybe even a blue ball in the bushes — but it’s a great way to play on a sunny afternoon.