"Mr. Durant? I'm Michelle Bravo. I'll be your caddy."
Truth to tell, she'd never really heard much about Vic Durant. He usually occupied the bottom of the leaderboard. He made the cut about half the time, but always finished in 50th position or so. Still, depending on the tournament, 50th position paid about $10,000, not bad for 4 days work.
He looked at her with an outraged look on his face. His lips worked, but he said nothing.
"There's my bag," he said, jerking his thumb at the large leather bag stuffed fll of golf clubs. "Can you lift it?"
Michelle was 5 foot 7, and after three months of carrying heavy golf bags (and taking up weight training so she wouldn't be ready to drop dead at the end of every day) she was quite sure she could carry this guy's bag. She picked it up and hefted it over her shoulder without comment.
"All right, come on," said Durant. "They're about to announce me."
Durant normally wasn't so rude - neither to men or to women - but he was simply seething and he had not expected to have a woman caddy.
Durant walked up to the first tee to the polite applause of the audience there - they were all waiting for the bigger names yet to come.
Michelle started to look in his bag for a driver, when he pushed past her, grabbed a club out of the bag, and stepped up on the green, placing his tee in the ground and his ball on the tee.
He addressed the ball, then hit it as hard as he could, with all the fury of not having dumped his alcoholic caddy months ago behind the swing. It went high, it went far...it went into the rough.
Durant immediately began walking toward the fairway, holding his arm out with the club.
Michelle sped up a bit and grabbed the club away from him and stuffed it in his bag.
"Well, damn," thought Michelle sadly. "This is going to be a real fun four hours."
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