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"Terribly sorry chaps, but one has to keep one's finger on the pulse and all that." His companions murmur acknowldgment.

On the fourth hole there is another ring. The American says "excuse me", places his thumb to his ear and holds his pinkie near his mouth, and has an intense converstaion. He turns back to the bewildered group.

"Oh, this is the latest thing on the Coast," he says "I've got a microphone grafted into my pinkie and a receiver in my thumb. It's really convenient."

They play on for a few more holes, at which point there is a loud ring. The German, who had been leaning over his putt, snaps to attention. "Ja, verstehen, verstehen, ja, ja. Auf Wiedersehen." He snaps back to normal.

"This is really the state of art," he tells his playing partners. "I have the microphone grafted into my lower lip, and the receiver grafted into my earlobe. All I have to do to answer the telphone is to straighten my neck." Everyone is impressed.

Finally, on the 18th hole, muted chimes are heard. The Japanese businessman drops his clubs, blurts "so sorry" and runs into the bushes. Everyone waits.

After 15 minutes the American goes to check on his colleague. He finds Mr Tanaka squatting, trousers around his ankles, eyes closed and grimacing. "You okay, Tanaka-san?" he asks.

"Everything is fine," Mr Tanaka replies. "Just awaiting fax from home office."

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