March 27, 2009Okay, no more hanging tight. I promised that you'd get a post about the country club yesterday afternoon and you're getting the post 24-hours later. Not too shabby if I do say so myself.
On Wednesday afternoon, I got a call on my cell phone from a gentleman whose name I've heard around town.
"Hello Mrs. Lawson," he asked?
"Um yeah. This is Amy," I said.
"My name is Tom McDonnough, and I'm the chairman of the membership committee at the local country club. I'm calling to find out if you and Dr. Lawson might be interested in joining this year."
Obviously, when they decided to extend the invitation, the membership committee had no idea that Dr. Lawson and I drive a rusted out 1989 Blazer with a smoking tailpipe problem. And our good car? Yeah, it's got one hubcap.
"You know," I replied, "Dr. Lawson isn't much for golfing, but thank you for the invitation."
"Well then," Tom continued, "perhaps you might be interested in purchasing a social membership to the country club this season?"
At this point I'm thinking, 'Well I can fart on command...I wonder if the other members might like to get to know me a little bit better.'
"And I think you'll find the membership fee quite reasonable," he offered.
By now I'm thinking, 'Well, if your country club has some sort of a sliding fee scale, then maybe it will fit our budget after all!'
"The social membership," he continued, "will entitle you and the doctor to unlimited use of our private beach, tennis, and use of our restaurant."
And then, in 100% seriousness I asked, "Does your country club have an all-you-can-eat buffet?" Dude. What? I wanted to know.
My question was followed by silence. So I asked again. "Tom? Does the country club have an all-you-can-eat buffet?"
"I'm sorry Mrs. Lawson," he said. "It doesn't."
"Then we're really not interested, but thank you for calling."
And just like that the conversation was over. I didn't even have the chance to ask if the restaurant accepts food stamps...or if dogs are allowed on the beach...or if the dress code would prohibit me from wearing my ass-shorts.
Honestly, I think Tom has a better chance of getting Ferdinand the Giant to join his country club that Dr. and Mrs. Lawson. Hell, Dr. and Mrs. Lawson aren't even classy enough to rake their own yard. Or give their kid regular baths. Or wear pants to the grocery store.
(If you're really feeling like a slacker today, there's another new post down there...)
16 comments:
love it!!!!
But you're classy enough for me!!
I think you're doing that all wrong. At least weasel out a free meal at the club restaraunt before saying no!!!
You make me laugh!! LOVE it.
You can fart on command?!? That is SO cool! Just that talent alone would gain you entry into my personal country club, if I were to have one.
But the question is: would you wear pants to the all you can eat buffet at the country club?
I worked at a country club during the summers in college, and let me tell you, money does NOT buy class.
Hilarious! You always make me laugh, but for some reason that one really got me going.
LOL. I can totally see you asying that!
saying
see i've tried to fart on command and i...well you just don't want to know.
we're classier than you! we have 3 hubcaps and one missing. and you have to be all up on your shots to get into my car...just in case.
Obviously, he doesn't know about this blog. If he'd read it, he'd know you've sworn off all-you-can-eat buffets and WHY. Hahaha!
Just out of curiosity, how much was the 'reasonable' membership fee? ;)
Fart on command, huh. Nice. hahaha.
What's a country club worth if you can't have all the food you want?
ha ha! I totally understand....I am not the country club type either....even if a million bucks dropped on me from the sky!
Very nice article thanks for the sharing.............
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