I Got Your Caddy Right Here

Ego Boy Rides Again

Men's egos are a funny thing. Their competitiveness is
definitely not confined to that baseball game where they
need to out swing each other or that hockey game where
they need to bash each other against the wall in order to
drive the puck down the ice and into the net. Their
competitiveness reaches into their very souls and oozes
out their pore in the form of sweat. My friend Shane and I
were recently visiting our friend "Jake" in North
Caroline. He was an old high school friend and had opened
up a restaurant up there. Shane and Jake decided they
wanted to catch up over a round of golf. "Mindy," Jake's
girlfriend of the day, and I decide we will tag along. But
that was when Mindy offered herself up as the indentured
servant for the day.

I understand that men dream about women serving them,
bringing them beer while they are watching the game and the
remote when they can't find it. But I would have never
guessed they would want a woman to caddy for them. Mindy
was younger than him and must still have the idea in her
head that she must earn a husband by waiting on him hand
and food. Bless her heart. She just hasn't joined the rest
of the women in the world yet. She wouldn't stop showering
Jake with praises. "You're such a great golfer!" You've
got be kidding me, I thought. I just looked at Shane, who
is married to my friend Kristi, who I have known all my
life, and said, "Get 'em, Dog." It was all the sentiment he
needed. Really.

I learned to quickly hide my camera from Mindy who kept
wanting to borrow to take a picture of Jake as he putted,
drove and even missed the ball completely. "Isn't he so
cute?" Did we ever like that with guys? I hope not. "Aim,
man!" Shane started yelling at Jake. But Mindy would
counter with "Babes you're doing great! It's just an off
day. You're the best golfer ever!" I was going to throw
up. Shane I rolled our eyes. They actually called each
other "Babes."

Eventually, Mindy decided that exhaustion was Jake~s
problem. ~Hey, Babes, why don~t you let me carry your bag?
Can I caddy for you?~ I doubt my face hid my emotion there.
I am sure I looked at her as if she just screwed up the
entire precedent we had going and set Women~s Lib back at
least thirty years.

"WHAT?!?" I screamed, not hiding my disgust.
"No, really, let me carry it. It'll be fun, Jake!"
"A golf bag is heavy, Mindy. It's not like carrying a
purse."
"Yeah, I know. But hand it to me, I'll do it!'

Shane and I shook our heads and laughed. Jake had always
had an ego and now thanks to Mindy, he was going to riding a
while on it again.

"Yeah," Jake said, "that's my girlfriend." And then he
sang, "Big pimpin', spendin' cheese. Big pimpin' on
b-l-a-des." He considered that his theme song.

Shane stuck out his bag, offering it to me in case I felt
left out in not carrying someone's golf bag, as Mindy
dragged Jake's to the next. "If your back is really hurting
you, I mean REALLY hurting you, I might help you. But if
not, you know better."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, laughing. "But don't you want to
show her up and be the better girlfriend?" He batted his
eyelashes.
"I'm telling Kristi."
"Kidding. Just kidding."
"Yeah."

Just then, we saw Jake~s club go flying through the air
again. He walked over to go get it, and I yelled out as if
he were about to step in quick sand, ~Wait a minute!~

He just looked at me for a second. ~What?~

"I was just wondering if Mindy fetched too."


Boule Deblance wrote this article and is webmaster of
Do You Golf?, a website
dedicated to serving golfers at all skill levels. We
provide a single place on the web where you can go to get
information you've been searching for. Please go to our
site at: www.dugolf.com

Home |Golf Drivers |Golf Woods |Golf Irons |Golf Wedges |Golf Putters
Golf Shoes |Golf Bags and Carts |Golf Accessories |Golf Books
Golf Balls |Golf Caps |Golf Apparel |Golf Glovess |Golf Magazines
Used Golf Clubs

Link to Us

Copyright © bestgolfsupplies.com
All rights reserved.