Welcome to Cart with Kathy! I created this blog to share some of my entertaining experiences as a server at a golf course.


The names mentioned in my stories have been changed for privacy.


Tuesday, September 21, 2010

You Know You Work too Often When...

Oh, the characters on a golf course.  It is interesting to see what you can discover about the regulars just by serving them daily.  For example, Mr. C, Mr. T and Mr. B golf every Saturday morning.  By 11 am they have finished their 18 holes and are hungry for breakfast.  Though Mr. B rarely orders breakfast, Mr. T and Mr. C like their eggs over easy with two slices of original bacon and one pemeal and of course a healthy serving of hash browns.  Ah ah ah! Don't forget to bring the Frank's Hot sauce to the table when you run their food, Mr. T drizzles it over the entire plate.  A Stella Artois for Mr. T, a Coor's Light for Mr. C and a Canadian for Mr. B.
Beer and drink orders were very easy to remember.  Every Wednesday, Mr. and Mrs. F would arrive in the clubhouse after 9 holes.  Mrs. F would approach the bar and place their regular order while Mr. F enjoyed a cigarette on the patio.  Mrs. F would order a rum and Diet Coke in a small bar glass with a lime wedge for her husband and  a tall glass of ice water for herself.  Occasionally, they ordered a basket of fries.
You don't only learn these preferences among the members and regulars, but of course your co-workers.  Nick in the Proshop detests onions and will usually order a salad with blue cheese dressing and occasionally sweet potato fries.  Jim, however, would rather eat rat poison than have a french fry.  He was more interested in the "Special Salad" or a veggie plate with balsamic (not ranch!).  But nothing is as particular as the "Big Burger".  One day early in the summer, our GM, Steve, ordered a "Big Burger" from me, without giving many details of what this burger actually included.  He later informed me that a "Big Burger" had everything on it (but I later discovered that he preferred the Big Burger without pickles).  So I entered the kitchen fully equipped with my ingredients: a beef patty, of course, bacon, tomato, onions, cheese and lettuce.  I placed the patty on the grill and covered it with a lid of a pot.  Then, after toasting the buns, I prepared the dressings on them.  I learned quickly that Steve liked onions (unlike Nick) but only on a burger if they were placed beneath the patty on the lower bun.  This way, they didn't slide out.  Once I flipped the patty, I would usually cut the bacon into patty-length strips and lay them on top of the patty and then apply the cheese as an adhesive for the bacon.  On the side, Steve generally liked sweet potato fries, although he commonly asked for hash browns by mistake and would be unpleasantly surprised when we presented his plate.  Otherwise, he would ask for Jim's beloved "Special Salad" which consisted of tomatoes, cucumbers and feta cheese with balsamic (A Kathy original!).  On my last day, Jim told me, no, he won't miss me, but the salads.
7 days a week at work will inevitably lead to routine and regularity but to be quite honest, I liked knowing about people's little preferences.  After all, it would be no fun to work in a place where you couldn't get to know the people.  But man, was it ever disappointing when we ran out of lime wedges!

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

The First Blog

It's 11am.  The cart has been stocked, washed and gased and it's time to hit the course, after all, those golfers need to stay hydrated!

Yes, this is a blog about being a golf course beer cart girl.  The job seems appealing yes, but after enough marriage proposals, sexist comments and golf ball injuries, it becomes another day at the office. But these are the stories on the course worth sharing, the stories that I will remember as I continue to age, looking back on those two summers I spent driving out to every hole on the course, offering refreshments.

Southern Ontario, as many Canadians know, experiences quite the unpredictable weather.  This is the story of being caught in my first storm in the Summer of 2009.

It was a humid August day.  Maddy and I were the only food and beverage employees scheduled for this cloudy Wednesday.  After Maddy made several cart runs earlier that day already, it was now my turn to take the wheel and venture out on to the course.  We peered out the window in the club house that had the best view of the course.  Though I figured that it might rain, I decided to hop on the cart anyways.  What's a couple hydrogens and an oxygen anyway?
At this course, the beer cart run begins at hole 18 and concludes at 4, serving the perimeter of the property on the back 9 first, and then returning to the front 9 located on the inner part of the property.  So as I am driving along Hole 16 the rain begins to fall...and then the wind begins to blow so fiercly that my hair began whipping my face.  While I continued to push my hair about, the rain drops increased in size.  Not only was my hair fighting my face but now I was being attacked by gum ball sized raindrops that began hurting my skin.  What a lousy day to forget a raincoat!
I was coming around the green of Hole 15 when I saw the first group of golfers.  Frantically depositing their clubs back in their bags, they were shocked when I still managed to offer them a drink.  They told me that they were heading back to the club house for safety and I decided I would join them.  The thunder was roaring above me and long, crisp strands of fork lightening began appearing at a distance that was too close for comfort.
I began mapping out the best route back to the club house in my head.  I had almost reached Hole 14, the furthest point from the clubhouse.  Luckily, I remembered a short cut just beyond the fairway of Hole 15 that would spit me out at the green of Hole 6, just 2 holes away from the club house.  Deciding to value my safety over the condition of the bent grass, I cut across and began making my way back to shelter.
The rain was not slowing down.  It was pummeling the plastic windshield of the beer cart so hard that I had to stick my head out the side to see if I was still on the cart path.  Our poor, pitiful beer cart struggled as it peeked the first of several mogul-type hills in the cart path.  Though my view was blurred from the waterfall of rain pouring before me, the 2 forks of lightening that I remember seeing strike a neighbouring home simultaneously was clear as a bell.  A few more moguls to climb.  Though I have never been more terrified for my life, I began to laugh of our pure discomfort.
Finally, I reached the clubhouse.  Instead of parking it at the back near the kitchen door (which Maddy had closed due to the strong winds), I left it to be soaked in front of the proshop, parked in a rushed and crooked manner.  I entered the proshop, soaked to the skin, still shaking from the experience.
As soon as I saw Maddy, a flash of relief swooped over her face.  She had expected me much sooner since all the golfers had retreated to the club house full minutes before I had.
At first when I got in the club house, I thought I'd be able to drive the 3 kilometres home to put on dry clothes, but of course this was not yet possible.  Every golfer on the course was now hungry and thirsty!  Maddy was frantic on the bar, pouring beer after beer.  I was ringing in a guest's order when a gentleman approached me.
"Excuse me, can you look up the weather for me?"
"...Look out the window...current weather: RAIN!" I thought to myself.  But of course, I couldn't actually fullfill his request because our country internet had begun to fail.
Another gentleman then approached.
"Did she get in okay?"
"Who?"
"The beer cart girl,"
"Can't you see that I'm soaking wet??" I replied and we both began to laugh.  No, I always come to work after jumping in the pond on Hole 4, idiot!
Once the business in the club house had calmed, Maddy allowed me to go home to change.  I turned onto my road and then came to a stop...DAMN! A fallen tree was obstructing my path.  I turned around and took a much longer route home.  Once I got there, I called my sister and left her a message explaining any sort of strange feeling of danger she may have had and assured her that Mother Nature had chosen to spare my life.  Then I called the township to report the tree and returned to work.

So there you have it.  After surviving this storm, I can survive any!

So Long FORE now!

-Kathy