No Happy Nonsense

Topgolf Sucks


December 16th, 2023 | Swingin' Clubs


6.2 Minute Read

We all know that I love golf in an abstract, spectator-only type of way. Golf television broadcasts are quiet meditative perfection, but playing golf itself is stupid and boring and lame. This is fact; it is not something to be debated. It is just a matter of growing to accept this truth of life.

That said, going to the driving range with a few friends and swinging wildly over and over and over at a tiny little ball and barely hitting it further than thirty yards every time is amazingly fun. Even better, when you accidentally make a perfect swing and connect with the ball exactly dead center and that sucker flies nearly 250 yards away, you would believe that there is a greatness inside of you capable of literally moving mountain ranges across the continent, the perfect swing is that good that not even the Rockies can withstand the onslaught of your total focus and attention.

Topgolf however, is an abomination worthy of immediate eradication from the face of the Earth with nothing remaining afterwards but a wasteland of debris and rubble where this unholy golf-as-corporate-entertainment center once stood.

Everything about this makes my brain burn

I went to a Topgolf facility once with a friend. The location had just opened days earlier, perhaps even hours earlier as the entire staff was standing around with nothing to do when we entered. When we asked to buy time so we could play golf-as-corporate-entertainment, we were asked to produce our driver's licenses. When asked why, the young boy behind the counter hesitated and called his boss over. His boss, equally unable to provide clear reasoning as to why they needed our driver's licenses, eventually resorted to saying "either we see your license or you don't play." I should have known at the time that this invitation to leave was a gift, but I do not accept gifts from strangers and instead I handed over my license.

When we got to our designated golf-as-corporate-entertainment area, we were then shown a ten minute tutorial for how to play the different modes of golf-as-corporate-entertainment that Topgolf offered. These ten minutes were on our running clock of time we purchased, effectively stealing both time and money from my friend and I. Eventually, the employee left us to our own devices of golf-as-corporate-entertainment and my friend and I started to hit balls. The driving range has giant pits scattered through the range that have different "zones" within them. Depending which game mode you decide to "play," there are different challenges such as trying to hit each zone within a pit, or trying to score the most points, or trying to puke all over the group of tech bros next to you to ruin their khakis and button-downs.

About ten minutes into our playing of golf-as-corporate-entertainment, another employee, our waiter, walked up to us and started to talk to us about the days drink specials. We told him no thank you. As if under duress, he continued talking about how they had great happy hour deals available, and did we want to try some mozzarella sticks to get the party started? My friend and I stared at the waiter, through him, and hoped that he would deflate into a skin suit balloon and let us proceed with our now-38 minutes of remaining time to enjoy golf-as-corporate-entertainment.

He did not deflate, but promised to come back in a little while and see if we worked up an appetite, haha!

This was many years ago, and I can only assume that Topgolf has turned into a Vault-Tec-esque hell zone, all of the doors welded shut with the remaning employees and guests forced to create a new world within the boundary of their new, artificial fiefdom. Hallucinating in the ghostly image of their former lives, many of the employees remain stuck in their old routines, constantly asking the dry-blood-covered guests if they would like to try a Big Dog Margarita with a side of mozzarella sticks while the prices are still half off.

My friend and I never went back to Topgolf. My friend and I are no longer friends, even. I don't think Topgolf was the reason for our downfall, although Topgolf is a reason for the downfall of all of humanity, so in a small way I can lay blame at the feet of this blasphemous golf-as-corporate-entertainment church. We all must take control of our lives lest we allow ourselves to fall at the whims and chaos of fate, but you should act fast because you only have 60 seconds to hit all six zones in the closest pit of despair or else the reapers will find you and turn your insides into outsides. We're all scrambling to hit all the zones we can with the time we have left, so swing hard and skip the booze.


Filed Under: Fiction