Ever since slavery was abolished, there have been few institutionalized ways for rich white people to show how much better they are than everyone. But while most people rejoiced in the land of liberty and freedom for all, white republicans stayed one step ahead of the game. They needed to a way to preserve the timeless tradition of old white people who only interact with other old people and occasionally their ethnic servants. And that’s why they invented country clubs.
Historical details aside, betches love country clubs for the same reason we love regular clubs: exclusivity. But country clubs are so exclusive that you can’t just be a regular rich person and get in. You’re interviewed and pre-screened for class and like, need connections and shit. Like sure The Situation may have millions of dollars but you can bet your ass that he’s more likely to become governor of California than play 18 holes at Riviera. Getting a club membership is kind of like getting a job but instead of them paying you, your parents pay them and it’s like, a much better use of your time.
A true betch knows that nothing is more fun than inviting your besties to the club to have brunch and then lay out by the pool. While bottomless bellinis and free food prepared by a chef from a fancy French culinary institute is an appealing way to spend your summer, you realize you could also just do that at your house considering you already have a pool, tennis court, and 24/7 help. But then how would anyone ever see your Vix bikini?
The country club also serves as dating resource. I mean everyone there is already pre-approved by the fam and a large board of directors, with the added bonus of looking hot in a polo. It’s like an adult Greek system for the Lucky Sperm Club, where the only hazing you’ll have to endure is wheeling your grandma to the breakfast buffet.
The perks of belonging to a country club:
– Your parents pay for everything, such a difference from every other part of your life.
– All the employees must know your name and it’s socially acceptable to not know theirs. Oh, hi, uh Julio..?
– Getting high and hitting up the buffet/trying to figure out who else is high
– Pretending to play golf to meet hot rich guys – if you can rock a golf outfit without looking like you’re about to take Wanda Sykes to dinner, you can rock anything
– Immersing yourself in other cultures, as your staff will sport name tags stating their country of origin
– Laughing at the poor people with BMW’s
– Getting drunk and driving golf carts on the range with said hot guys
– Actually having to play golf
– Parents’ friends asking you what you’re doing with your life (Yes I’m single and no I don’t have a job. That’s why I’m talking to you.)
– Watching your mom in her tennis matches. They play worse than in a tampon commercial.
– Dress codes. No frayed jeans or shirts with lettering – Hard to #42 dress like a slut in front of all the old fucks
– Old fucks
Belonging to an elite country club is our parents way of saying “we’re better than everyone who isn’t a member and most that are” as well as showing off their accomplished financially dependent children, dad‘s golf skills, and mom‘s botox. If you have a certain amount of wealth, it’s like, almost weirder if you don’t belong to one.
So remember betches, if your dad was never approached to invest money during a round of golf with Bernie Madoff, you’re probably poor. And if he was, we guess you’re still poor. With that we urge you to go clubbing at the one place where it’s socially acceptable to wear a skort. Be classy. Be elite. Join a fucking country club.