Over at the Manzella forum, somebody asked to post your crazy golf stories. I've got quite a few of them in my time playing golf, but I thought I would share the craziest one of the bunch, which was more of a 'working at a golf course crazy story.'
I was in Myrtle Beach at the time working as an assistant. Once a week the assistant pros had to work as a ranger for the day. What was strange about it was it's actually a horrible duty to be assigned because you're stuck with slow golfers and telling them to speed up because if one group is slow, that can make for a full day of six hour rounds. I really wish people would understand that when playing in Myrtle and full blow lepers can play a round in Myrtle with ease in under 4 1/2 hours.
Anyway, it was my day to go out and ranger the course. I then get a call over the walkie talkie asking me to come to the pro shop. I hated these calls because it always meant that the ranger had some shit side job waiting for them that the assistants in the shop were 'too busy' to do.
So I get to the shop and the Head Assistant Pro says that they need a big favor from me.
They need for me to carry a handicapped woman up into the restaurant.
You see, the course I worked at didn't have a handicap ramp to the restaurant and instead had a piece of shit elevator that the course would throw money at and would break down every month.
I'm tall (6'4"), but I'm not the biggest guy in the world (weighed about 170 at the time). I told the Head Assistant that I really doubt I could carry a handicapped woman up to the restaurant because she would be too heavy.
'I don't think you have to worry about that' he replied.
'What do you mean by that?' I asked.
The Head Assistant then proceeded to tell me that this handicapped woman had no arms, no legs AND she was pregnant.
I then flat out refused to help. The Head Assistant was a bit incredulous about it and I told him 'if I feel a nub, I'll puke all over her.'
So if he wanted to fire me, then fire me...but there's no way in hell I was going to do that.
They wound up getting another assistant to do the dirty work. And yes, we literally talked about the ordeal every day for about the next 4 months.