A Young Lad in America #5 May 11, 2009Posted by Rambling Man in A Young Lad in America.
So I’m suffering from a bit of writer’s block at the moment and whilst earlier perusing older entries in my blog, came across the “Young Lad in America” series which, as it happens, only got as far as about Day 6 !
So here goes … we rejoin yours truly, in the guise of an intrepid, fearless (whilst being the opposite), early twenty-something first-time US traveller eager to have the time of his life but not knowing a thing about how to go about it.
Destination – Garden City on Long Island – a rather well-to-do community at who’s top golf and country club I had managed to secure a job. I can’t really remember how I got there but I guess it was back onto the LIRR (from Montauk) and from the station, I walked. The road and streets all were numbered just like in the movies but you think I could find out where I was going ? You still have to know where 1st Street is before you can walk 3 blocks to get to 4th !
Anyway, I remember it was a Monday evening about 6pm by the time I got there and unbeknown to me country clubs and the like close on Monday on Long Island – don’t ask me why … maybe it’s to recover from the weekend ? So marching right up the tree lined drive, I knock on the front door ! No answer … I walk round the side and look in the window to the bar and tap on the glass … no answer. So now what do I do ? – it was getting dark, all the doors of my prospective employer were closed and locked. I was supposed to be living on-site but this place looked well and truly locked up.
So I walked around the back and found two caddies in varying states of slumber – or was it inebriation ? I had delusions about being a caddy also – and explained to them my story. One of them shinned up what looked to be a drainpipe (more on this glorious entranceway anon) and soon appeared back with a fearful looking Mexican chef, covered in flour and not knowing what to do with his newly arrived charge. And so that’s how I met whateverhisnamewas … I honestly can’t remember – it was something simple enough like Ernesto or Aurelio or something but hey, it was over 10 years ago !
In I went and was shown where I was supposed to stay which as it turns out was an upstairs hole in the roof dorm type bedroom – it was actually pretty cool. But – no mattress, no sheets, no nothing – obviously the guys arranging this job for me thought I’d have the sense to stay away until Tuesday – not me however – I turned up on the only day of the week the place was closed and deserted ! So I set about exploring a high-end country club on my own, looking for bed sheets, blankets and some food. If anyone official had been there or had arrived back at the club, I’m sure I would’ve been arrested and deported … walking around the changing rooms and looking forlorn.
I remember the Mexican playing something on the piano as I ate the sandwich he threw together – first time I ever had pickles – and when he went home, that was it – just me and a country club ! I didn’t even have the sense to go to the bar, pull myself a drink(s) and turn on ESPN – nah I spent the next hour or so on the payphone in the corridor yelling long distance to my Mum about how I wanted to come home and there must be some mistake !!
Well turns out it wasn’t a mistake but those months in that club … well they were hard … and fun … and I’ll tell you more later …