Cart Girl Chronicles: Sunscreen

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Cart Girl Chronicles: Sunscreen

We solicited wild stories from cart girls all around the nation. The following are real responses from real cart girls, both past and present. They are disturbing, and golfers everywhere must do better. If you’d like to submit your own stories, email Golf responsibly.

Just Too Aggressive

To Whom it May Concern,

This is currently my third season as a cart girl on a private, country club course. The crowd is usually older, very generous and generally harmless in what they say. Overall I love my job. However, there was a certain crowd that came in last year that gave me the absolute creeps. Five men, about mid forties came through as guests of a member (who was pretty rowdy himself) and they came to get DOWN. I didn’t really have any other groups on the course so I followed them for almost their entire round. They were buying a lot from me, but the questions they asked me kept getting more and more inappropriate. Mind you, I only had met one of these men before and he definitely wasn’t the one asking, but he wasn’t stopping them either. Finally on about the 16th hole, I got the question: “So cart girl, how do you like your pussy licked? Huh? You into the shit? Bet you are you little tease!” No matter how much I like anything licked, I definitely wasn’t going to tell this frost tipped, mid-life crisis fuckhead how I liked anything. I drove off and didn’t see the group for their last two holes. They then didn’t even give me a 20% tip on what would become a VERY large bill. Couldn’t say I was very surprised…

Side note: Love the piece, cracked me up!

This guy had to be fresh off his second divorce, drunk, and lonely as hell. You need to carry mace and just dowse these bastards.

Hugs Not Drugs

So, I wasn’t a cart girl but I do have a story from the course. I worked at a pizza restaurant and was told by my boss one day that I’d be spending my shift on the golf course giving out free slices of pizza. Sitting in the sun all day sounded like a good deal so I was in. There were a couple of other vendors there including some old ladies promoting fireball at the tent connected to mine. Old as in OLD. They definitely qualified for senior discounts. I’m not sure how they got the gig, but after the old men got a few shots of fireball in them (quite the choice for a hot summer day in Florida) they got frisky really quickly. Next thing I know, they’ve convinced the old ladies to let them take shots of fireball out of their wrinkly belly buttons. It was the worst thing I’ve ever seen, but I couldn’t look away. By this point, I’d also realized that even though I was getting compensated for this day out on the course, I wouldn’t be making as much as I would be in a normal shift, so after declining to let the creeps take shots out of my own belly button, one said he’d pay me for a hug. Before I knew it, I’d whored myself out for $212 in a couple hours worth of hugging and some free pizza slices. My point being, those cart girls could pick another job easily, but the creepiness is well worth the cash.

Just a good solid hug coupled with a slice of pizza. That’s all you need in life. Sounds like Fireball needs to step their game up.

Blatantly Offensive

I grew up on a golf course, played in high school/college, worked as a cart girl, and now work as the Marketing Director for multiple golf courses. So to put it simply– I could write you a NOVEL of creeper/sexist stories. Here are a few of my favorite comments received:

As a Cart Girl:
– Honey, will you go back and drive over those bumps one more time for me?
– How old are you? I’m sure “old enough” (Young enough to be your daughter, sir.)
– Will you sit on my lap? It’ll bring me good luck.
– Touch my shaft, you’re good luck… golf club shaft OF COURSE.
– Wow you have a great tan, is that real? So if I rub on your legs, it won’t come off?
– Will you touch my balls? (As they hold out two golf balls)

As a Marketing Director:
– I’m trying to figure out why you’re here… are you a golf wife, golf mom, or golfer…
– We’ll let you take our picture if we can take yours. Clothing optional?
– What are you doing out here taking photos for? Is your husband playing in the tournament or something?
– Awww you’re cute, are you the course secretary or something?

To shut them up, I usually grab their golf club and hit a shot closer than theirs. Sometimes it works, sometimes it makes it worse. Hopefully this was what you’re looking for! Haha

“Back over those bumps” is a new one, and one of the most old man things I’ve ever heard. In fact, everything you listed sounds old man as hell. Why are golfers scum?


There was a group of some old guys who were probably in their late 60s that were walking the course. I pulled up next to them and said “Uh oh. Here comes trouble.” The guy who looked the oldest replied with “Honey, if I was 35 years younger I’d show you trouble,” and kept walking.

Another time this guy told me if I could help him find his balls he would let me help him clean them too. Followed by a very creepy wink.

Hope this helps!


This guy probably thought he was going to knock it out of the park with this. He thought he’d have his boys waving towels over their heads from the bench and holding each other back. In the future, respond as follows:

Creepiest Thing I’ve Seen In Awhile

First of all, I love the site. Here’s a story that is so absurd that people refuse to believe it. I used to drive the beverage cart at a very nice private club in Houston. It goes without saying that it’s hot in Houston, and anyone who walks the course in the middle of summer is an absolute psycho. Well, we had some regulars that walked a few times per week. They weren’t retirement old, but they apparently had enough money to play a ton of golf every week. Anyway, they were usually a little gross with some of the jokes they made, but nothing terrible enough for me to refuse service to them- until one particular day.

It was very warm, and I keep sunscreen in the drink holder in the cart. I was parked in between 2 holes, and decided it was time to reapply. So I’m sitting there applying block to my arms, and they turn the corner. “Need any help? I’d be happy to rub it in for you,” one of them aggressively proclaimed. “No, I think I got it” I replied. I gave a fake smile and asked if they needed anything. “Well, now that you mention it, I could use some of that sunblock. Why don’t lube me up?” At this point, his friends were cringing and looking the other way. It was the most awkward thing ever. But it gets worse. Since I don’t have to put up with that shit, I told him I was running low and wouldn’t be sharing, to which he responded,

“Well, if you run out, I bet I can give you some homemade sunscreen.”

Me, immediately realizing that this was the dirtiest thing I’ve ever heard, got back in the cart and went back into the pro shop. I let the pro know what went down, and to his credit, he immediately went out there and ripped the guy’s a new one. Oh, and his membership was suspended for 6 weeks. That was the last summer I drove a cart around a golf course.

Wow. That’s just, uh, yeah. I’m done.

Image via Shutterstock

If you enjoyed this, check out An Apology To Beverage Cart Girls.

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