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Wednesday, August 19, 2015
A CRANKY RANT
Why are people dicks?
I went to my County golf course today for a little practice. It is a nice course; it has two 18 hole courses and for a public course gets relatively little play. The greens are nice, a little slow but nice, the tees are well maintained and the fairways are mostly grass.
The best part of the course is the cost. As a senior, I can play for only $13 a round. There is a driving range and to hit a small bucket of balls only costs $3. Golfers will recognize this is a great value.
The only drawback to the course is half of the people working there are dicks! I go to the desk to pay my fee and sometimes the dude at the cash register is on the phone. He ignores me for five minutes. Ok, he’s being a dick, but I don’t say anything. I let it go.
Then I go to the range and bang out a bucket of balls. Next I want to practice some putting, but it is some kind of kids “First Tee” thing and the green is covered with children. I go off to the practice chipping green and the same thing. The green is covered with kids. No problem, I think it is good they are getting kids interested in this great game.
To practice chipping, I go about 50 yards behind the first tee and work on my short shots. Apparently you are not supposed to practice in this area. I have no idea why, the grass is just rough. It is not watered or maintained beyond cutting, there is no danger of hitting another golfer that I could discern, and there is no sign saying no practice in this area.
Anyway, I’m chipping back and forth for about 10 minutes and am about to wrap it up and the “Starter”, the guy who checks your tickets, comes out of his little shack and starts hollowing at me, “No chipping…NO CHIPPING!”
I wave at him, an “OK, I hear you kind of wave” and punch my last practice ball back towards my cart.
“HEY!!! I said NO CHIPPING!!
Now I was a little pissed. I put my clubs away and pulled my cart up to the starter’s shed. I’m about to give this guy, a little fat douche by the way, a piece of my mind. I get to the shack and there is another starter. Apparently the little fat douche left for the day, his last act was to play the big shot and tell me “NO CHIPPING!”
The new starter was actually a nice guy.
“Excuse me, I’ve got a complaint.”
“Apparently I am not supposed to chip in that area even though there is no sign. I’m OK with that, but why does the guy that was just here need to holler at me like I’m a little kid that just hopped the fence and was stealing apples?”
“Oh, that’s Ernie, pay him no mind.”
“Do me a favor, tell Ernie that the 70 year old man he was just hollering at like a kid stealing candy does not appreciate him playing Mr. Big Shot at my expense. He should learn to say ‘Excuse me sir, I know there is no sign, but you are not supposed to be practicing in that area.’ Oh and tell him that this old man says he is not a big shot, he is a miserable, little fat dick.”
“Sorry about that sir, you have a point.”
The whole thing had me fuming for a couple of hours.
I will see Ernie again, and I will mess with his head.
Cranky must have his revenge!