The Masters Golf Shop: The most disgusting and glorious display of capitalism known to human beings

As many of you know, I had the . . . opportunity, yes, let’s stick with that word, to work in the Augusta National Golf Club golf shop for the 2008 Masters tournament. This is no easy thing. I had to interview and fill out a lot of paperwork in order to get the job, and many people apply and do not get a job. I am grateful for the opportunity. First, let me say that Augusta National is a top notch organization. Its employees and accommodations are the best—period. You wouldn’t really expect anything else from the most prestigious golf club in the world, would you? Unlike other golf events and many sporting events, there were no advertisements-anywhere. Everything was green . . . and perfect. I also had the chance of walking the course a little and seeing some of the famous holes, like amen corner. The golf course was a very cool experience. Now let me get back to the golf shop.
I cannot really describe how insane the main golf shop was. I worked at the hat counter. I sold over fifty varieties of hats. Each hat was assigned a number. So I had to basically memorize the # for fifty different hats. This took a couple of days. Anyway, here is what the average costumer experience was like. A middle aged, moderately overweight and sunburned man walks up to the counter. The man is obviously successful, because of the gold watch he is wearing, plus the fact that he is wearing a polo shirt from the golf club he is a member of. It doesn't matter what the name of the golf club he is a member of - even if its "Happy Chipmunks Links" - he is showing it off. He walks up to the counter, relieved that he has finally gotten to the hat counter through the maze of people that makes it where people are literally shoulder to shoulder because it’s so crowded. He looks at me and says, "Hey there! (excited that he's about to give more of his money to Augusta National), let me get 10 # 5's, 25 # 7's, a #17, a # 21 and throw in a dozen # 5's." This man is already holding a plastic basket which contains anywhere from 2-10 Masters polo shirts which start at about $70 each and go all the way $150. This man already has $800 of stuff in his basket, and now he wants $400 worth of hats.
Not everyone was like this – but this is what the average person was like. Everyone seems so excited to be in the Masters golf shop that they don’t care that they are paying gratuitous – almost extortionist – prices for products made mostly in China and elsewhere in Asia by cheap laborers for hardly anything. Somewhere Adam Smith is doing jumping jacks! This is how capitalism is supposed to work. This is the most disgusting and glorious display of capitalism I have ever seen. One man I’m talking to me, who had probably spent a ton of money in the golf shop, looks at me with a grin and says, “It’s like their printing money in there!” I could not agree more. Oh, by the way, I spent some of my measly earnings (and they did pay me bad) on a hat. There is no escaping the power of the Masters. People walk into the golf shop like their pants are going to catch fire if they don’t spend $1,000 in twenty minutes. I’ve never seen anything like it.
So one last story. I met Tony Romo while working at the golf shop. I was wearing casual clothes and a hat. No one else at the hat counter recognized him, but I, as any decent NFL fan, knew who he was. I instinctually walked up to him and stuck out my hand, looked him in the eyes and said, “Hey, Tony, its good to meet you. I’m a fan.” Instantly the 16 and 17 year old girls I am working with at the hat counter start to giggle. They know he is someone famous, but they don’t know you. One of them looks at Tony and bursts out, “Who are you!” Tony looks annoyed and says, “no one.” Then the come up to me while he is still at the hat counter and say out load, “who is that.” Finally, when Tony was about to leave, I cracked under their pressure and said, “Its Tony Romo!” They still didn’t know who he was, but at this point they know he is someone famous and are about to pounce. Tony gets a couple of hats and gets out of there just in time. Once the girls find out he is Jessica Simpson’s boyfriend they start telling all the other workers and then go looking for him. Now I don’t feel sorry for celebrities one bit, but I must admit I felt a little bad for Tony because he probably gets that all the time.