This year I was lucky enough to score an opportunity to not only be charitable by volunteering at a concession stand, but to be able to play at the pavilion as well.
My friend had this amazing idea to volunteer for the Dallas Lab Rescue Group at their prime fundraiser for the year. Not only did we get to save the lives of dogs by slingin' beers, but we also got to absorb all the Byron scene for free. Our volunteer gig was fairly easy other then the other annoying volunteers. Needless to say when Preppy and I were working, everyone came to our line. Who wouldn't want to by exspensive buckets of beer from cute girls vs the old vegans on the other side of the stand. As we escaped from our volunteer shift (yes literally grabbed our stuff and ran like a bunch of high school girls), we headed to the 17th hole to do some people watching on the hill... oh and watch some golf too.
You would be amazed at some of the outfits girls were wearing at the Byron. Who wears stilettos on a golf green?? I watched numerous girls struggle to walk the course (which only made me laugh in my head). Stilettos are appropriate for indoor sports, but not for a tourney that requires walking and trekking in the greens. I also enjoyed the LV contest the Dallas women secretly had going on, you know comparing who's was larger. The only trend from the course that I find applicable is the fedora. Many girls looked rather hip with their shorts, cute tank, and straw woven hat. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I went out today and bought one to wear to the Rough Riders game and Margaritaville party tomorrow night.
After awhile we headed to THE PAVILLION aka the party scene at the Byron. This is the acculminating event for the 20-30 something crowd. At this point in the day no one cares about par, they only care about par-tying. Preppy and I met up with some of our friends and met a few new ones. By this time I was no longer in shock of the over the top apperal, but more focused on watching 50+ year old men try to hit on 21 year olds... Hilarious!
Some of our new friends were boys we met...duh. I became particularly fond of this Morgan Stanley guy named Sean. Sean and I had a lot in common, he went to my same college, and for the most part was hilarious. We had a good time hanging out, he complimented me on my eyes, and kept buying my friend and I beer... what was there not to like? As we stood there partying at the pavillion I realized that I started treating our hangout time as a first date...guess that is what happens when you've been on so many blind dates. I found out his parents weren't together, he grew up Catholic, was the oldest child, and flew airplanes through college. I was definitely vibing on this guy, yet there was one problem... throughout the 3 hours of hanging out, he didn't ask for my number until the very end when we were literally chasing our friends through the drunken rowdy pavillion crowd. I would call out 3 numbers at a time and he would frantically try to type them in his phone as we were moving.
Needless to say, when my friend and I lost him in the crowd, I was a little disappointed. Only because he didn't ask for my number earlier when we weren't playing follow the leader through the post Byron party. At that point I stopped and realized this was a God thing. If it was meant to be, then he would have heard all my digits and put them in his phone. I felt like Cinderella leaving her shoe, or the girl from the movie Serendipity leaving her number in a book that she would sell to a used book store for the boy to find. Instead of getting into a coach made from a pumpkin, Preppy and I got in a cab provided by the Byron (driving after a looong day of sun and beer is never a good idea).
Overview of lessons learned from the Byron- wear flats on a golf course or at least a wedge, don't interrogate boys upon first meeting them about their life story...save that for a date, guys should ask your for your digits within the first bucket or two of beer, cabs home from the Byron really are free and your car will still be there afterwards!
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