Andrea And Everything Else

Lion In A Coma – Animal Collective

So there’s this girl at work. This seems like as good a place to start as any.

One of the jobs at the Meadowbrook Golf and Country Club (where I am currently employed) is that of the Beverage Cart Girl. I’m not sure if that’s the official title, but their job is to serve beverages to the members, they ride on a cart containing said beverages and, as far as I’ve seen, they are all girls. Hence, my assumption.

There are two or three BCGs by my estimation and not surprisingly, they are all good looking. Since the country club clientele is 90% male, this obviously helps when you’re trying to sell shots of Bailey’s for $18 a pop. My official interaction with these ladies is nil, but when they pass by the back shop (that’s the area where I work) I give them the nod and smile or some other silent pleasantry.

I want to tell you that I saw Andrea and fell head over heels, but the truth is that she’s really the only one I would feel comfortable making advances on because the other girl, a blonde cutie named Amanda, is the sister of Matt Kelly (one of two Matts I work with, referred to from here on in as “Kelly”). Kelly is much bigger than me. I decide it would be best to leave his sister alone.

That said, I’m more attracted to Andrea anyway because she’s a brunette and she has these amazing eyes. I finally managed to talk to her at lunch the other day after a slow build. Again, there are the “how do you do?” glances that occur a few times a day. Then there was some work-related conversation by the golf cart shed. Banal, I know, but important to establishing a thin rapport so that a more in-depth lunchtime conversation would not be so jarring. The timing couldn’t be better.

When I go into the clubhouse, I find Andrea and Sarah eating in silence. Sarah is a nice enough girl who works in the pro shop. The pro shop is where the members pay for cart and club rentals and purchase merchandise. If we’re the Morlocks, the pro shop employees are like the Eloi. It was a slightly awkward situation when I walked in because I could tell there was zero conversation between the two girls. I don’t need to remind you that deep down, all women straight up hate each other. I ask a couple of questions about today’s lunch to break the ice and then sit down with them to further engage. I bring up the usual stuff regarding how they like work, how long have they been here, etc. The questions are posed to both of them, but I’m sitting across from Andrea and concentrating on her, maintaining eye contact and gauging body language and facial expressions. Again, those eyes are really something.

Sarah eventually finishes up and I ask Andrea how much longer she has for her lunch break. She replies that she can take as long as she wants, which is both good and bad. On the one hand, it gives us a lot of time to talk. On the other hand, if she leaves in the next five minutes, I know it’s because I’m a boring bastard and not because duty is calling. Tricky.

After five minutes of chit-chat, she doesn’t seem in a hurry to go so…

a) I’m doing well
b) She’s easy to talk to
c) She does not want to go back to aimlessly driving her cart
d) Some combination of the above

I find out that she’s going into her third year at Guelph and that she’s studying Tourism Management. Hey, I’m as amazed as you are that I remember that. When answering her, I try to be vague though I accidentally let it slip that the reason I’m here is “to get some money in my pocket and figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life”. Ugh. Loser point!

Since it’s our first time really talking, I figure it’s definitely too early to exchange numbers or propose a date, though I suppose I better get on that soon before I become “that nice Chinese guy at work”. A fate worse than death, for sure.

I also stupidly brought up my coworker Mike Valenti, because I was telling her an amusing story about the back shop. For some reason I have the odd habit of referring to everyone by their full names so when I mention that Mike’s last name is Valenti, she freaks a little because her last name is Valente and she has a brother named Mike. I assure her that it would be unlikely that two siblings could work at the same place for months and not realize it. That’s the kind of thing that might come up around the house. Either way, she says that she has to meet this guy. D’oh!

When Valenti comes in for his shift, I ask him if he knows Andrea and he says “I’ve seen her before. She’s cute, eh?” I decide to nip this in the bud and tell him about their similar last names. He says they’re probably not related, but that it would be a funny way for him to start talking to her. I tell him to back off, because she’s probably his cousin and that kind of behaviour isn’t tolerated in these parts (though we are on the edge of Stouffville, so maybe).

“Come on, Alex. We work in the backshop, we’re like the big dogs of this place. It’s every man for himself.”

The other guy coming in for his shift is named Cormac and I tell him to cock block Valenti if that girl comes by. It’s on now, son. It’s so freakin’ on.

*****

Backshop work includes, but is not limited to these tasks:

1) Bringing the carts out of the shed in the morning and parking them along the grass.
2) Leaving the golf clubs out for members that have scheduled tee times and pulling clubs out for whoever shows up during the day, expected or otherwise.
3) Setting up the driving range and making sure that there are enough balls at all times.
4) Towel laundry.
5) Cleaning and storing the clubs when the members are finished.
6) Spraying down golf carts with the power washer.
7) Garbage, cleaning the washrooms, sweeping, all that good stuff.

My top priority is to assist the members in any way I can. Sometimes members will park their Aston Martins in front of the club and ask for their clubs because they’re going golfing in Australia. Sometimes a member will be late for their tee time and I have to take a cart and drive them out to their hole. Often, I stand in front of the backshop twiddling my thumbs waiting for something to happen.

Mentally, the job is obviously super relaxing. I don’t mind the physical exertion, because it certainly is not going to hurt me to get some exercise. The members are nice and polite for the mostpart and I get to work outdoors. There’s so much I enjoy about it. The whole outdoor aspect really struck me when I got my first early morning shift. I wanted to make sure I got there on time so I made sure to leave myself plenty of time to get out of the house and I got to the club before everyone else. As I wandered around the perimeter of the pro shop, I noticed the first hints of the sun coming up. As much as I’ve enjoyed doing absolutely zero for the last year or so, I never made a habit of setting a decent wake-up time for myself. After setting up the carts and clubs, I had time for a breather. As I peered over the distant hills, I realized that I’ve missed too many sunrises.

You’ll be happy to know that as great a time as I’ve been having at work for the last six weeks, I’m not satisfied. This job is just helping me with remembering how to work on someone else’s time. I’d forgotten how to handle even the most basic responsibility. Don’t get me wrong, making sure that Mr. Pennypacker’s golf clubs are ready by 9:30 isn’t going to change the world, but at least I know I’m contributing to something, even something as trivial as a round of golf. I’m taking babysteps towards what I want and what I feel comfortable doing, though I know what’s needed is an enormous, Hulk-like leap.

*****

Congratulations to the Los Angeles Lakers on a well-deserved championship! Let us reflect on a quality season of NBA basketball by celebrating the 2008-2009 All Pussy Team.

Well, well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Nice Guy. Welcome to my lair. Well now. Tell me a little bit about yourself.
Well you know I be from Jamaica, man…Lord ha’mercy!
What part of Jamaica?
Right near ‘da beach. Boy-ee!