Vantage team, Kevin and Mike, watch Steve putt

Vantage’s Day on the Town

Sun’s out, Clubs out

Last Friday, Vantage Search Marketing leader Steve knew that another Friday spent indoors would be detrimental to team morale. Gazing out of his third story window, Steve saw a bold, blue sky and heard whispers of a glorious escapade. The idea struck him all at once, and, overjoyed with excitement, he let his loyal followers know that today there would be sport. He rallied his troops, scrambled together a set of pitching irons and putters, and led them off on what would be one of the better Vantage Fridays in recent memory.

The Club of Cactuses

Vantage team at the Cactus Club

But first, there would be feasting. And what better a place than the Cactus Club in English Bay?

Keen Steve took initiative and preemptively called a cab for pick-up at the office. The less than punctual cabbie never arrived, and twenty minutes later the team managed to hail an empty van cab to the front of the building. Unimpressed with taxi services in Vancouver, the Vantage team pushed onwards, not letting the wasted time get us down.

Arriving at the Club, a small queue became visible to the Vantage team. It was no problem, and we were seated quickly by the ever dashing and lovely hostesses. But they were nothing in comparison to the luscious waitress who would serve us and take the picture above. Long brunette hair and a light, raspy voice brought us our first round of drinks. Increasing the team’s impression of her further, the suave server brought Steve’s cocktail in a manly sleeve to match the rest of the team’s beer.

Cocktail in a sleeve from Cactus Club

The food was tasty and satisfying. Kevin, watching his figure, ordered a salad. The team’s only complaint was the less than generous amount of fries offered. But being full wouldn’t be conducive to a strong game of golf, so it may have been for the best.

Some later clarification from the Cactus Club:
Cactus Club replying to Vantage Search Marketing

Stanley Park Pitch and Putt

Finishing the meal, we strolled over to the arena of iron and grass. Along the way we couldn’t help but notice the wind cooling a sunny day. Unafraid of this observation’s impact on a game of golf, we arrived and teed up for the first hole.

Our first swings were capable, but clearly loosening actions for our rusty joints. Well, except for me. My first swing was probably the best of my game, I can still see it now landing so close to the hole. It was a deceiving omen for what would come.

And what would come wasn’t pretty for me, but the rest of the team seemed to be improving: Steve had the power, Kevin was a natural talent, and Mike putted like a pro. Me, I managed par a couple of times.

I like to think I was maintaining the PPC policy of consistent testing, albeit without much data analysis. The others, for the most part–a few swings had us all keeling over laughing–were upholding the ideology of constant optimization.

Steve approaching the flag at stanley park pitch and putt
In the end, we reached the eighteenth hole intact and entertained, all of us looking forward to Steve’s next spark of recreational inspiration.