"Wayne the Pimp"

Mid July. Hot. Windy. What would be better than playing 18 holes at Wind...er West Ridge in West Valley? I would say its almost in Tooele. A good little course that has some interesting holes and is always a good place to play a 2 hour round of golf. In other words, it's never crowded. Especially when the wind blows, which is only 362 days of the year.

I tee off alone. I call it therapy and look forward to a great day of peace and quiet. I parred the first, bogied the second, bridied the third, parred the fourth, parred the fifth. I catch a slow moving foursome at the sixth. By the looks of them, they are not going to let me play through. Not that they are jerks, but because I don't think they know what it means to play through. I patiently wait on the tee box of the par 5, 6th knowing that I can find a good place on the next few holes to move ahead of them. I would just skip the 6th, but it's only a 480 yard par 5 and is a possible eagle chance. Sitting even after 5 holes, I decide to play it and hope for a chance to move in front of them on the 7th or 8th.

While I'm waiting for them to clear the fairway, the cart girl comes around. She's dressed exactly how a cart girl at a muni course in the middle of West Valley would look like. I imagine she could be a very attractive girl if it weren't for the pierced nose, pierced brow, black lipstick, overdone eye makeup, daisy duke shorts (short enough that the pockets extend below the shorts), black high top sneakers and an ACDC tattoo on her forearm. I asked her if she had a cold Diet Pepsi. She took of her head phones and said, "What? Sorry I couldn't hear you." I repeated myself. She didn't say anything just moved to the back of the cart, bent down and opened the cooler compartment to pull out my request. At this point I realized the ACDC wasn't the only tattoo she had. She had some fancy design on her back. I believe they are known as "tramp stamps". I thanked her, gave her a generous tip and walked to the tee box.

The foursome in front of me had finally cleared the "kill zone". I hit my tee shot. Right down the middle and long. Yippeee! As I loaded back into my cart another cart pulled in behind me. I didn't hear the conversation in detail but I'm pretty sure it was regarding the cart girl and how hot she was. This was going to be good. Say hello to Larry and Wayne. Two sixty somethings who thought they were still in their 20's. I asked if they wanted to join because of the foursome ahead of us and they said sure. I told them I had already teed off. The only disclaimer from both of them was that they were both old and played golf for the beer and to get away from their wives. I love it.

They hit their shots and the result was exactly what I would expect from two sixty somethings. Short and right. We reached their balls and they couldn't believe how far down the fairway my ball was. "Holy Sh**, Larry check that drive out! I've never see a ball that far on this hole." They were impressed. I ended up 15 feet from the pin on my second shot with a putt for eagle. After both tapping in for triples they awaited my putt. In my backswing, the loud and somewhat obnoxious Wayne shouts, "Be a hero!". It was a tough right to left putt that I had no intention of making and had it not squarely hit the back of the cup, it would have gone 10 feet past the hole. But it dropped in. I think they were more excited than me. I tried to keep my composure to appear that I do this all of the time. I was like a duck on water. Calm on the surface but underneath I was paddling like crazy.

On the 9th hole the conversation turns to getting to know each other. I ask them what they do for a living. Larry says he is a retired iron worker which based on the large muscular forearms and the square shoulder build, I believed it. I asked Wayne next and without a hint of a smile or without batting an eye he says, "I'm a retired pimp." I waited for a giggle or a "just kidding" or even some response from Larry but there was dead silence. There were so many things I wanted to say but he just couldn't based on the fact that I think he was totally serious.

I ended up with a 35, 40, +4, 75. It could have been much better. I think my curiousity was cleared however, when after the round, I returned the cart and noticed Wayne putting his clubs into his car. It was a low riding, black, mid 80's Cadillac Seville with tinted windows and crome rims. It was the exact car I would imagine a pimp driving around. A pimp named Wayne no less.