Rules of the Game
It was time for another glass of freshly squeezed Florida orange juice that I had discovered like manna from heaven, and I headed for a pink tubular empty table.
“Morning”
“Hi there”
“Hello”
“All right today?”
“When is your game?”
…Rang out all the greetings, and I was grateful to everyone for being so friendly.
I sat down and scanned the terrace for a waiter, while nodding at anyone who looked my way, regardless if we had ever been introduced.
My isolation was short-lived, as this was club life and everyone clustered into groups as quickly as possible as if they couldn’t breathe alone.
For them making the right alliances from the beginning was crucial, as slipping down the social ladder was a constant fear, and moving back up was near impossible. I was an outsider and I didn’t take it seriously.
Mistakenly, I had thought that allegiances were made between people that liked, respected, and were fond of each other, but it was more about being financially compatible.
Rich people rarely mixed or socialized with poor people, unless they were something interesting like artists - that had been exhibited of course.
The quickest of interviews were being given all around the club, and dismissal depended on your first reply.
Exchanging names was not an immediate formality, as that could wait until you had made up your mind, if or not you wanted to continue the conversation.
It was like ‘speed dating’ but in couples, and at a golf club.
“By the way, my name is John, and this is my wife Joan” was a typical introduction that could follow 45 minutes after quite a lot of detailed discussion on a huge range of topics.
Thinking people were friendly and open was partially true, but it was the quickest way of trying to place you socially and economically, and in order to do so, a lot of silly questions needed to be answered first.
“Are you living here?”
“Are you visiting and for how long?”
“Are you a golf or tennis member?”
“Where are your other homes?”
“Were do you eat?
“Who do you know?”
“What broker do you use?”
…And so on.
The wrong answer to one or more questions and the conversation was terminated, like a game of multiple choice, while scoring points put you into various categories.
It was something Tony Blair did not even remotely grasp when he was with George Bush, the sad fool thought we all spoke a common language. We do not-the words are the same but the meanings are different.
Jumping from a low score up to a higher score was possible if you had an overwhelming advantage like being famous, foreign, stunning, or a mafia family member.
Living in the right village was the ‘color of your passport’, because they assumed every human being on earth would buy the best possible house they could afford.
* * *
Where to have dinner was the most important decision of the day, and it normally took all day to decide.
“We went to Renato’s last night,” called one person to another in the middle of playing tennis.
“Ball please! Oh, really…how was that? I heard they make good pasta.”
“It was the best! I had the stuffed shells with ricotta,” came a reply during a serve.
“OUT! That ball was out! Did you see that out?” came an irritated voice from the opposite side of the court, insisting in an authoritative tone.
Silence returned as they continued play back into the rhythm of the game, consumed by thoughts of shells and ricotta.
Having started at 8am, with nothing to eat or drink but a small juice, most of us were starving hungry.
The south of France had the aroma of lavender and perfumes, but Boca smelt of chips, BBQ ribs, muffins, and coffee, depending on what the hotel chefs were preparing.
The only way to avoid thinking about food was to think of something even more over whelming – sex, but as most people in country clubs were ageing, over medicated, and heavy, this was not a great solution.
I noticed during tennis the minute the opposition team were behind, they would shout “the veal chop was this thick and it cut like butter!” showing fingers to show just how thick.
Chasing a small lime green ball, in the heat, hungry and for no obvious reason, was something I had to learn to enjoy.
This was Florida and it would be a long winter so learning and observing their rules was going to be important.