Coworkers

I've been starting to make plans to get out of the golf business, and one of the main reasons is because of other golf professionals. Take one of the guys I work with for example, he's a third generation golf pro, and he's close to having forty years in as a golf professional. He is by far the most bitter, disenfranchised, sarcastic, miserable human being I've ever met. Need proof? This nugget of joy was delivered no less than two minutes ago (brought on by seeing that I brought Paul Johnson's A History of Christianity with me to work today)-

If all that I've been told by the Catholic Church about heaven is true, with the no pain, peace, loving everybody and the whole big family thing, then fuck it, I don't want to go. I don't want to go to hell either, with all that, but I don't want to go to heaven. I want to go to Purgatory. I want to sit out at the end of some field with a bunch of beat up range balls, a seven iron and my dog, where no one will come fuck with me.

He's a multi-millionaire, been divorced twice, hates his job, and loves surfing through porn here at work. He is without a doubt, one of the greatest people I've ever met. He's me, only thirty years down the road (if I stay in the business). Every once in a while, he'll make some statement so random and accurate that it blows my mind. Yesterday, it was this-

So, have you been having much luck with the ladies down here? Yeah, that's what I would have figured. You're just like me, you can't stand associating with women of that level just to get laid anymore than I can. You'll end up falling for some girl who is on your level or above, and she won't even notice you, which will just make you want her all the more.

Amazing, and totally true. Anyway, besides being an astute observer of people, he's one of the driest, funniest people I've ever met- and since he doesn't care about anything, he pulls off things I can only dream about.

Today, for instance, some douchebag walked back into the shop after playing a five hour round of golf (it's the Fourth of July- the busiest three days of the year) and started bitching right when I walked in the door to work today.

"Look, I just wanted to say that this was the worst experience I've ever had on a golf course. Your ranger staff was incompetent, we must have waited for five minutes on every shot. This place is..."

Before he even finishes, the man I work with goes into a perfect stutter, trying to apologize for the experience but just struggling to get anything out, and the whole time staring straight down and off the side. He finally expresses that he'll give the guy a raincheck to make up for it if he'll just wait for him to fill it out. After walking over and grabbing a raincheck, he tries to fill it out, but his hand is shaking so much and he's pushing the pen so hard that it rips a gash in the raincheck, the whole time apologizing profusely through this stutter. The guy, who hasn't noticed that I'm standing off to the side barely suppressing my laughter, just deflates, thinking that my coworker has just been overwhelmed by some psychosomatic illness carrying a tidal flood of cortisol and epinephrine into his now stress-addled brain. Instead of complaining, he's now trying to calm the man I work with down and saying things like, "It's ok, don't worry about it. No, seriously, it wasn't that bad, I really appreciate that you're trying to help, but seriously, don't worry about it" before finally just giving up and walking outside, without his raincheck. As soon as he was out the door, I just lost it, nearly wetting my pants.

As soon as I recovered, my coworker then started telling me that he's been going to the same gas station for three years, and every time he goes he pulls his pants up to his chest, making a Tom Jones inspired cameltoe (I'm not even going to attempt to Google a picture for that), and from time to time putting his slip on deck shoes on the wrong feet. He said at first he could see people just trying to suppress laughter, but now everytime he goes he gets ushered to the head of the line.