Spending the majority of my summers caddying at a country club, I had the opportunity to meet some fascinating people. I will argue with anyone today that caddying is the best job on the face of the earth. Other than the fact that you have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn during the summer, it really can not be beat. You have to look at this in a few ways. First, you're outside all day instead of stuck indoors flipping burgers. Second, you get paid straight cash, you don't claim any of it. Cold, hard cash, dollar bills, making it rain on hoes. Bam, get some. Third, the people you meet are some of the most interesting people you will ever meet. Everyone from the older members to younger members, men to women, and douche bags to "legends".
When a 13 year old kid first begins his caddying career, he really isn't sure what to expect. You get thrown onto a golf course with minimal training and absolutely no people skills whatsoever. You have these wealthy members of the club who can sometimes take their game too seriously (even though they suck worse than Hoover vacuum) and then take their frustration out on the first one they see. That first one is 9 out of 10 times their caddy. When I was 16, I had a member spas out because he played like absolute dog shit. This jerk off claimed he played bad because his clubs were dirty. Really, dude? You're telling me you were 5 feet short on that birdie putt because you're clubs were dirty? Sit on it, bro. When little caddies would complain about douchey members, I would just encourage them that with every dick head, there are 3 to 4 good guys. When I first started out, I caddied for an older member who was CEO of one of the larger companies in Cleveland. This guy was the happiest guy you could ever meet but he was absolutely terrible at golf. He didn't care. He was just so happy to be out on the course shwappin away at the ball. That is where the term "legend" comes into play. "Legends" usually are members that everyone has caddied for at least once in their life and it was an enjoyable experience. Now there are some "legends" who will only allow certain caddies to loop for them, but you don't see those until you put in your time.
Caddying really begins to be beneficial as you get older. When you get to be 17 or 18 you really start to see some characters out on the golf course. I'm talking guys who are drinking like vikings, yelling obscenities, throwing clubs, talking about lewd sexual acts with women, and pretty much disregarding any social norms. This is when caddying goes from being a job to entertainment. Most people will say, "How can you carry someone else's golf clubs for 18 holes of golf in the hot sun?" Well, it's simple. I carry their bag, they feed me beer, I laugh at their lack of skills on the course, and they pay me lots of money. In cash. Most people look at caddies as modern day slaves to old rich guys. That is the complete opposite. These days, you see new country club members coming in and they are relatively young guys. The "new money" members have slowly been taking over the country club scene. These are the guys who will bring out a few of their boys, get all shnockered up, and then proceed to throw stupid jack at their loopers. Next thing you know, it is 4 in the afternoon, you already put in a days work, and you have a slight buzz going. Last time I checked, slaves didn't have to work in those kind of conditions.
You gotta love the golf hoes, though. I promised one member (you know who you are) that I would throw her and her girls in this. Now, I never really enjoyed caddying for ladies. They were bad golfers, had no etiquette, and usually just complained for the 5 1/2 hours you were out there with them. There were a few individuals who were an exception. You usually have women who usually play with their husbands and try to act like they are these extraordinary golfers and every round they play is like the qualifying round to get onto the LPGA tour. Those bitches suck. Then you have my favorite. The women who are good golfers, who get hamboed on the course, and pretty much fuck with you the whole time you're out there. These women are awesome because all they want to do is have a blast while they're playing golf and getting drunk. So seeing that I don't usually caddy for women, I still had to give a shout out to my golf hoes. You know who you are.
I finally wanted to touch on "slappy". For whoever knows who "golf guy" is then you already have a good idea on who "slappy" is. For those who aren't hip to it, "slappy" is that dickhead member who thinks he is playing in the U.S. Open and he is sniffing the top of the leader board. This genital itch is the most high maintenance man you will ever meet and he is always blaming a bad shot on something so irrelevant that it just makes him look more like a knob. For example, "slappy" will hit a shot, take about 2 feet worth of turf, and then proceed to claim that someone 2 fairways over yelled "fore" in his backswing. "Slappy" will then complain that he wanted his 7 iron in the same spot of his bag as his 4,5, and 6 instead of his 8, 9, and pitching wedge. I can't just beat "slappy" down into the ground, though. He does provide some comic relief to the round. Like when he hooks one into the woods and then goes over his elaborate strategy to get out and put it on the green. "Ok, Tuna. If I hit my 7 iron then I can just lay up but that might be too much trajectory and I might clip that branch. If I use my 5 iron, I can punch it out and hope that it stops right before that bunker therefore leaving me a nice flop shot to the pin. OR I could use my 4 iron and cut it so it just lands on the green. Whad'ya think?". Well I think you suck at golf and I think your wife was staring at my crotch back before we teed off. That's what I think, dickey. And then once you get done with the round he has some off the wall request like make sure you put his 60 degree wedge in his wife's bag because she is playing in a couple days and she really enjoys using it. Then take his demo driver he was using and exchange it at the pro shop for another one that he thinks he can hit better. After his dumb ass request he then proceeds to hand you $42 and asks if you can caddy for him in a match over the weekend. Right, dude. I would rather be gang raped by a gaggle of silver back apes all while getting needles stuck into my crank. But best of luck to you, anyways. Now who's your caddy?