So, I work at a country club. I know what you might be thinking; I’m sitting around with my buddies drinking Coke out of a bottle getting winks from older women while their wealthy husbands shake my hand with a $20 bill. Not quite. If you tried to guess again you might also imagine me basking in the sun, a leather golf bag hanging from my shoulder with a plaid-clad man to my left politely asking for his 7 iron. You would be wrong again.
I suppose movies like Caddyshack and Happy Gilmore have put similar stories of country clubs in my own head but after personal (and somewhat below par) experiences, I have not encountered such glamor. My self-proclaimed title is Senior Bag Room Employee, but guys, I’m a bag boy. I clean golf clubs and give them to people who hit a lot of golf balls very far away. Then I go pick them up.
Don’t get me wrong, I am miles from miserable in my work but at the same time I pray every day to see a Bill Murray-ish individual destroy an entire underground groundhog tunnel system with explosives. I’m not even asking for Bill Murray, I’ll take someone who just looks like him. No such luck. Instead, I must settle for the golf cart robbery committed by a shirtless homeless meth-head demanding a ride to the highway. “No”, I say, “Where do you live?” He replies with a grin, “Eau Claire”. Damn, outsmarted again.
I’m definitely not obsessed with all the movie glitz, and luxury, who needs it? The meth-head taught me that all you really need in life is a tent, TV, VCR, generator, homeless wife, and forbidden access to private property. It feels wonderful to have a fallback.
What truly makes this job great though is what I experience on a daily basis. Loads of wildlife, a penchant for dangerous cart maneuvers, frequent course and range excursions, and most importantly, free popcorn—to name a few.
So what is this job missing if anything at all? For one, I can’t play a round of golf to save my life. Every time I have a club in my hand I feel a lot more dangerous than skilled. This is just awful because I have a beautiful golf course right before my eyes and just can’t seem to utilize it to any sort of potential.
The last time I played a round of golf was during a bachelor party. We made it through 15 holes, 2 mini-kegs, and a case of beer before we started stealing each other’s shoes and throwing them at each other racing around the course. Once the groom fell off of his cart we decided to concede the rest of the holes. I can’t tell you exactly what I shot that day but let’s just say that you probably could have played better repeatedly shooting your golf ball out of a lawn mower.
It’s a relief that being good at golf isn’t a requirement of my job. That’s not to say I don’t have knowledge of how the game works because I do. I spent many hours as a child playing Tiger Woods PGA Tour 2004, so let’s just say I’ve done my research. Working at a country club can be sensationalized but what it’s all about, what it really is, is a place where people get together to do the thing they love the most. Getting pars and birdies or some shit like that.
