Friday, August 20, 2010

Hot Enough for You? And More Golf Course Fun

It's been a long time since I told any golf course stories, so I think it's time for another.

Actually, it's been pretty dull on the course for a while now. We had a couple of tournaments which require two beverage carts to keep everyone happy (read: to keep everyone boozed up). People drink a lot on tournament days. On those days Hubby drives the second cart. We split the course: front nine and back nine, and even then I can't keep up. We make it a little more interesting by placing bets to see which of us can sell the most and who can earn the most tips. It's even more fun when I tell the people I'm serving that Hubby and I have bet against each other...sometimes they take pity on me and tip me extra. But some of them are snitches and when they get on the back nine and meet up with Hubby they laugh, hahahaha, and confide in him what I told them, then tip him too. On the one hand, being uber-competitive as I am, I resent them. On the other hand, all the tips end up in the same place so we end up with more cash because of it.

For those of you unfamiliar with North Dakota weather, it changes really fast. One of the favorite local sayings is, "if you don't like North Dakota weather, just wait a few minutes." We've had a couple of days on the course where it starts out sunny, hot, humid, then as the hours tick away the clouds build, the wind picks up, and before you know it you're stuck at the tee box on 4, which is like half a mile from the clubhouse, and suddenly the clouds open up and literally dump an inch of rain. Okay, so not so much dump as blow sideways, and no matter how fast you try to get the stupid cart to drive it's not fast enough to avoid getting soaked to the skin so that when you walk into the clubhouse Hubby and boss and everyone laughs at you.

Today was a pretty slow day. It topped 90 degrees and probably 150% humidity. Pretty miserable. Every single time I stopped to sell something, somebody had to ask me "hot enough for you." I mean, really. Is it necessary to ask that? Because clearly it is hot enough. It's more than hot enough. But how do you answer that?

"Why yes, yes it is."

"It's hot? I hadn't noticed."

"Oh yeah baby, it's hot. Just like I like it."

"aaaaarrrghghghghgspfffffft."

But it got better when the really, really old fossil of a man who golfs every single weekend but has never, ever said a word to me, much less deigned to buy anything from me, asked me to take my top off. Okay, back up a little. He was golfing with about a dozen Canadians (who are notorious on the course for getting liquored up but quick...no offense to Canadians in general. It's just our local ones)(they come down from Saskatchewan and load up on American beer they can't get in Canada).

So Fossil is golfing with all these Canadians (I don't know if they're friends, relatives, business associates, or what). And Fossil actually buys some beer from me. Apparently it loosened his inhibitions and his lips a great deal. At the tee box for 7 he asks me:

"Hot enough for you?" (big surprise there). I give him a polite, noncommittal and dismissive laugh. then he says:

"How can you stand to wear that sweater?" (I was wearing a lightweight sweater over a tank top.)

I say: "The heat doesn't really bother me that much." (it does, but I'm not about to wear just a tank top around these guys)

He says: "You should take your top off."

I'm like, what?! Then he says, as he's back in his cart and driving past me to the next hole:

"Hehe. Dirty old man, huh?!"

Ewwww. So I don't see him again until the back nine, tee box for 14, where he and his buddies buy yet more beer. Fossil says:

"It's still hot. You should take your top off."

I ignore him and sell beer to his more polite Canadian friends. He tries one more time:

"When are you going to take your top off?"

I say: "When I get home tonight."

Which makes the Canadians guffaw, probably because they're all drunk, because it wasn't really that funny.

Thankfully, that was the last I saw of Fossil and his pals today. I hope he goes home and sleeps it off and the next time I see him he's back to his ignore-me-and-don't-buy-anything self.

So that's all I've got for golf course stories for now. I'll probably have more later. God knows that place is a gold mine for a writer.

4 comments:

William Friskey said...

Sounds like you should hustle these golfers. You and your husband say you've got a bed going, he hitting up the cougary, divorcee types and you taking off your top for dirty old men. By the time you're done, you'll have doubled your proceeds.

Suzie said...

You know, it's kind of funny. Men are fairly shy in their early teens, they hit their 20's and turn into to horn-dogs, make a slow descent to "oh, hell... I don't need it" around their forty's and fifty(ish) era and BAM... become massive horn-dogs yet again when they need dentures and Viagra. WTH?

A couple of years ago I was in a 7-11 buying a Dr. Pepper and I had an old man that had to be in his 80's with ONE tooth in his whole mouth (a front tooth, to boot) who asked me if I needed a sugar daddy. I was so stunned I couldn't utter a word. I simply walked out and got the hell outta dodge.

Angie Ledbetter said...

Golf giving your fodder gold? Cool!

Suzie said...

*clears throat* I just so happened to notice that someone (not naming any names here, Margaret) won a signed copy of Whisper Kiss.

I'd just like to tell them congrats and no, that's not my tongue sticking out followed by raspberries. :D