Your Money Doesn’t Work Here
Contrary to popular belief, Clubland doesn't care about your money
Clubland’s cardinal rule was observed, weeks ago, in the locker room of my club, the New Haven Lawn Club.
A member, standing in the unofficial Clubland confessional, shared with me that he had contributed to the fundraiser for the Club’s invitational squash tournament. Not only had I made a contribution, but I also helped plan the event meaning that I knew perfectly well how much either had given (both had done their duty and some more), but no mention of an exact amount had been made, and none ought to be.
After all, in Clubland, talk of your money is no good here.
First and foremost, if you’ve managed to get your foot in the door and made it past the arbitrary caprice of an admissions committee, and stayed past your probationary period, it means you’re able to afford initiation, dues and food and beverage minimums, all of which add up. At the very least, you’re solvent and liquid to the tune of a few thousand dollars a year—at the very least. Talking about your money does you no good when you’ve already established that you’re good for at least the amount everyone knows about.
Second, it’s more than a tad gauche. Would you ask someone how much their car cost? If you were so inclined, you could note the make and model, and call up a dealership or search the internet afterwards, but why talk about it openly?
As you make your way through Clubland, you’ll find that the most frugal members are also the wealthiest: two of the wealthiest men I know don’t have lockers at our club—all to save on the cost of a cocktail a month. When you try to show how much you have, you’re almost always going to be confronted with someone with those all-too-crucial extra zeroes in their net worth who wouldn’t tell you a darn thing about it, and the embarrassment is horrendous.
There’s hope in coming back from drunken escapades, but from being a braggadocio, most certainly not.
The next time you find yourself in Clubland, resist the urge to ask someone how much something costs. If you’re visiting, err not in asking what dues, capital, and initiation run: that’s perhaps the last time you’ll ever return to that particular club.
And remember, in the land of chits and charge accounts, your Benjamins and metal credit cards are of no use here.