I got thrown out of the golf club

I finally got a chance today to go play golf with the group from work that goes every Wednesday. It's been raining on and off all day and I almost backed out, but I had no idea when I would be able to go again, so I pulled on my raincoat and headed out. I arrived at Trilogy Golf Club eager to step on to the pristine grounds and whack away with my hand-me-down club set that is only missing a 4-iron (John threw it in a pond on a frustrating golf outing of his own).

I met my co-workers in the parking lot and the five of us headed into the pro shop. There were not many other golfers around due to the weather so they were going to let us all go as one group and we could tee off immediately except....

"Do you have any rain pants?" the guy behind the counter said.

"No," I replied. I wasn't really worried about it though because we were getting a cart (which is covered) and it was actually quite sunny at the time.

"Do any of you have rain pants she can borrow?" he asked the guys I was playing with. None of them did and I was about to explain to the guy that I would be quite all right with what I had on. After all, one guy in our group had on shorts and two others had on flimsy track suit pants - they were surely in need of rain pants too.

"Well, I need you in something besides denim," he said, with a very concerned expression.

"Oh!" I can only imagine the look on my face as I suddenly realized that the guy was not trying to make sure I was comfortable, he was telling me I was not dressed appropriately for their establishment.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea that there was a dress code," I said. He smiled and came around the counter to lead me to the small selection of ladies clothing they had. "We just got these in, they are very nice," he said as he showed me a selection of light lilac skirts and rain pants. "I can give you a 10% discount if you want." The price tag said $45. Now I don't know about most of you, but I can't see myself running around in lilac rain pants, much less paying $45 for the privilege. Thankfully he left me to think in peace and I decided to tell my co-workers that I would just join them next week.

Why they thought faded blue shorts and track pants were ok, but my jeans weren't is beyond me, but rules are rules. I guess he didn't notice that under my raincoat I had on a collar-less shirt, which according to the little hidden section of ther webiste called "Attire" is also a definite no-no.

OK - so they didn't really THROW me out, but I didn't get to play. It had never occured to me that in Seattle of all places, where people wear jeans to the opera, I wouldn't be allowed to wear jeans on a golf course.