People who work in golf clubs
I'm not a golf club member, never have been, I occassionally like to play a round at any club that lets non-members do so.

Why is it that the spotty fifteen year old Saturday jobbers at the counter always talk to my friends and I as though we had just crawled naked out of a great big bowl of shit and puke? I get the impression that they think we're not good enough to stand amongst the estate agents and salesmen posing with their £300 drivers which they are still paying for.

My handicap is "fucking awful at golf" by the way.
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Thu 27 May 2010, 13:53, 3 replies)

fucking awful at
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 27 May 2010, 14:07, closed)

In my defence
by "occasionally" I mean about once every 2 years...
( stopmeandslapme Cometh the hour, cometh your mum, Thu 27 May 2010, 15:19, closed)

In my computer/printer selling days
I had to meet someone on the fucking car park at Bingley Golf Club to give them a printer. It was a Saturday, I had a pair of jeans, a football shirt and trainers on. The guy I met on the fucking car park phoned me on the following Monday to tell me how much the whinging, moaning, up-their-own-fucking-arse stuck up cunts had complained about me turning up on their fucking car park dressed like I was. It wasn't even a proper car park...
( His Popiness the Hole Invaded Poland on, Fri 28 May 2010, 23:49, closed)