Walking down those long, oddly-placed steps to work, I can smell the thick aroma of beer and hotdogs. Then it clicks in my head, today's the tournament where you pay $50 and get to play golf and drink as much beer as you possibly can. Kegs are scattered all across the golf course, making sure you have a beer on each hole. Entering the pro shop to clock in, I know this day was going to be entertaining and sickening.

My boss, John, tells me that I will have to dig through the trash and collect all the beers cans for recycling. Then, I will have to wash the carts in the back and to “co-operate” with the golfers. As I double layer my gloves and head out, a golfer bumps into me.

“Watch it kid!” the man says.
From a few feet away, I can smell the alcohol seeping through his mouth.
I reply “Yes sir, excuse me", and I brush past him and head outside.

Tieing a few trash bags to the back of a golf cart, I begin my scavage. Reaching down into a trashcan, I can smell moldy sandwiches and beer. I nearly throw up with the mixture of both and begin to dig through the trash. With my hand near the bottom of the trashcan, a beer can tips over and beer runs down my arm and into my glove. I rip my hand out of the trashcan and tear the gloves off. A warm, permanent odor hugs my hand as I place its can into the trash bag. I never thought I would quit a job, but if I would, it would be this one.
After a few sickening hours of digging through trash, I head out to wash golf carts. Walking to the cart barn, I can still smell the beer on my hand. Looking at the row of carts, I grab the hose and start to spray down the carts. After cleaning a few carts, I lay the hose down and it randomly starts to spray everywhere. Fighting the water, I grab the nozzle and turn it off. Soaked and smelling like beer, I step back into a mud puddle. Slowly, I feel my foot getting cold and wet. This day can’t get any better… Thinking of how awful today has been going, I finish the carts and head inside for a quick break.

Most of the golfers were still at the clubhouse, drinking even more. I never thought someone could drink this much. I knew this day would end with these drunks still around. Looking at them, their faces were flushed red and have watery eyes. They were huddled around a keg like a watering hole. Some were slurring most of their words and stumbling up the stairs to get to their cars. I don’t know how they’ll get home, but I'm glad they're leaving; this day is getting worse the longer they stay.

Most of the golfers threw away their trash, but some decided to have some fun and throw their trash around. Like their shadow, I follow them around making sure their trash gets in the trashcan. I feel like their mother, picking up after them.

I try to wash my hands to get rid of this awful smell, but the smell won’t go away. I even double layered my gloves and the smell went right through them. Luckily with a few hundred pumps of germ-x, the odor was burned off. I feel like this is possibly the worse day at work so far. There is a couple more of these tournaments this year, so I might not be here much longer.