The bus rolled to a stop outside the entrance to Pinehurst on the last day of the men’s U.S. Open. As we walked through the dust from the kicked around sand I thought, someone’s life will change here today.
It was time to spend some money so we joined the masses inside the huge merchandise tent. I’d been in a few scenes like this before, at the Masters in 1999, the U.S. Open at Southern Hills in Tulsa back in 2001, and the 2012 Ryder Cup at Medinah, outside Chicago.
It was a daunting vista. Everything that would hold a logo was for sale in front of us. “Are you ready?” I asked KM. She sighed and gave an unsure nod. One of her many gifts is that she isn’t big on shopping. Lucky me.
We faked left and went long, towards the shirts and shorts section.
I’ll say one thing for the company hired by the USGA to run the two-week show; they have it all down, to an efficient art of removing you from as much of your money as possible in the shortest amount of time.
After five minutes and a handful of stuff, we saw Lisa, who walked by us with determination in her stare.
I supposed it is what that morning after Thanksgiving must be like, when retailers slash prices down to only a 400 percent markup.
Two Asian women reached for a large blue snuggie-looking thing with Putter Boy embroidered in the center. Good, I thought, anticipating a catfight. But they just smiled as both relented, dropping the large throw to the floor as they each reached for something different on the shelf. There was plenty for everyone in this impulse emporium.
It was time to get in the line to check out. KM held tightly to me, her hand gripping my belt from behind, fearful of being swept away, lost forever. I saw a mannequin on my right who reminded me of Anne Francis. Someone snatched the cap off her head.
As lines go, and there would be many we would stand in over the long weekend, this one moved at a good pace. Rows of cashiers swiped plastic, sacked merchandise and said “thanks” and “next,” in the same breath.
I had dropped $386. Too much, but about what I expected going in.
Outside there was no sign yet of Bob and Lisa and so I looked at my next two options. We could either, put the stuff in a locker and get it on our way out, or we could ship it home. I walked towards the lockers but saw a long line around the back of the locker tent. There were just a few people in the shipping tent so that was the pick. Twelve dollars and a receipt later I walked out. Less than $400, so I had that going for me. Good thing KM isn’t a shopper.
Bob and Lisa were there. “Did you get a locker?” I asked.
“No,” Bob said, “the problem with that is the line after is long and slow.” Efficiency ends after they’ve drained you.
“How much did you spend?” I asked Lisa.
“Three eighty-six,” she told me. Either it was the world’s biggest coincidence or all the registers are pre programmed for $386. I should have gotten more, I thought, and wondered if it was worth going back.
Later on I ciphered that, with an estimated 350,000 people attending the championships during the days from June 9 – 22, if you divide that number by two, for couples, like us, then 175,000 x $386 means they sold $67,550,000 worth of stuff. Not a bad haul.