Masters' Winner Patrick Reed Had Quite Possibly The Whitest Company Complaint In The History Of The Internet
A pro golfer? At a pro baseball game? On the company dime? Taking to twitter with a complaint that his free tickets in a highly sought after section that he self-named to sound dangerous because "third baseline" doesn't have the same bite to it as "line drive section"? While having more than enough money to casually piss away $650 to move up a couple dozen rows tops to be with his peers in the best seats in the house?
Honestly, if there's a @RichWhitePeopleProblems bot automatically curating the most caucasian of company complaints from around the internet then Patrick Reed just made it overheat and start billowing smoke with a tweet that makes "Hey @Starbucks, Becky only has one 'E' #ugh" look deserving of its own Sarah McLaughlin soundtrack. Seriously, someone get that grievance some SPF 90 and an umbrella, because that baby is a burning faster than the skin on the person who decided it was fit for public consumption.
You probably have to spend a hell of a lot of time in and around country clubs to develop the type of talent that's necessary to win the Masters, but is it possible that Patrick Reed has never actually been anywhere that doesn't require you to wear a collar? Like, perhaps he was delivered by way of a water birth in the type fountain that spits at the idea of being tarnished with change, and has just been getting shipped around from private course to private course ever since. This being his first venture beyond the safety of a security gate is really the only thing that could possibly explain being this out of touch.
Also, I thought the access into the world where the most privileged of circumstance is worthy of sympathy is dependent upon staying offline in these situations so as to not let people in on the extent of its exclusivity. Was Alfred not around to correct this injustice against full-blown entitlement? How is it possible that he was left with nowhere else to turn but to social media at its most sadistic when it came to righting a near impossibly unrelatable wrong?
While I am impressed with how much pretentiousness was crammed into less than 280 characters, I do think we need to send the collection plate around to gather some thoughts and prayers for Patrick Reed. After all, not only did he spend an inning at risk of having a foul ball hit to him, but he betrayed his fellow high society members in making public their ludicrous level of snobbery. For a guy who was already pretty hated in the golf community, I can't imagine that'll play well in the clubhouse.
Sidenote: Apparently Patrick Reed has completely cut off communication with his parents to appease his wife, and - if I were to be shallow for a moment - WOOF! That might actually be a more problematic choice than choosing to let the world take a glance at the thickness of the bubble he lives in.