Sunday, July 13, 2008
Amnesty For Placeholders
So I played Montauk Downs yesterday.
I set my alarm for 3 AM. After a bowl of oatmeal and a "GI shower" I tip-toed out the door at 3:40 AM. By quarter to five, I was standing in line at the pro shop. A handful of people had beaten me there. (Montauk Downs is a first-come-first-serve golf track. Read my prior post.)
One of the gentleman in front of me was a dapper Mexican. His hair was slicked back and he looked more like a butler than a day-laborer. I figured he wasn't waiting for a tee time because, well, I have never seen a Mexican playing golf AND because he was wearing jeans. Yet he was first in line.
When we got into the shop, while the rest of us were intent on the earliest tee times, he asked for a 10 AM start - which for some odd reason wasn't available.
Do y'all realize what was transpiring here?
Some rich dude ("el jefe"?) in the Hamptons made his undocumented worker get up well before the crack of dawn to secure his desired tee time. While he slept!
I could be wrong, but I believe they use wristbands at Bethpage to preclude this type of subterfuge. Prior to that, local guys would get to the course early, and then peddle their tee times to flush in-sleepers in the parking lot.
Anyway, this placeholder at Montauk jarred the faint memory of my *education*.
Didn't rich bastards used to send their slaves and minions to fight wars in their stead?