My Country Club Is Bleeding Me Dry…and They Won’t Let Me Leave

My country club is bleeding me dry.

Before you roll your eyes and think, "Cry me a river, rich guy," hear me out. I'm a member of a swanky country club that costs me $500 a month. It boasts a Vegas-style pool, theater, game room, gym and even a concierge. Plus, I have two dedicated parking spots for me and my wife, along with unlimited guest passes.

Sounds like heaven, right? Wrong. I can't afford this place, and even if I could, there are a hundred ways I'd rather spend the money. Yet here I am, ten years later — that's $72,000 down the drain. Tack on the interest I could've earned, and that figure probably doubles. Ouch.

I know you're dying to ask:

  • What on earth do you do for a living?

  • How much do you even make?

  • So...how often do you use the club?

  • Why in the world don't you just quit?

  • What possessed you to join in the first place?

  • Did someone drop you on your head as a child?

Those are all fair questions. Let me break it down:

Don't spit out your coffee, but...I'm a schoolteacher. And I have been for a decade. Yep, a teacher with a country club membership — hilarious. My monthly take-home pay? A whopping $5,000. The math doesn't lie; my membership devours 10% of my income. It's a financial leech.

Ready for another shocker? I've used the club once in 10 years. I'm simply not into the scene. And those dedicated parking spots? Well, I don't own a car...or have a wife. Yup, I get how ridiculous this is.

But wait, there's more. I can't just quit this "exclusive" club. Your next question — I've been reading your mind — is why on Earth not? Because if I do, they'll run me out of town. That's not hyperbole. If I try to escape this membership, I'll also have to give up my home and potentially my job.

Sounds illegal? You're half right. My city has a secret handshake deal with the developers of these fancy clubs — everyone living here must belong to one. It's enforced through a more subtle kind of pressure. Suddenly, no one will rent to you. It's the perfect, not-so-visible way to strong-arm residents.

So, how'd I get roped into this mess? These clubs know that most folks would balk at a $500 monthly fee. They'd also have tons of people quitting once they realized it was a money pit. So, they bundle the membership with your home. I couldn't rent this place without joining their club. Smart, right? 

Dystopian Fiction or Reality?

Here's where this story hits close to home for most of us. It might have a fictional setting, but renters across the U.S. live this reality every day. Your apartment complex? It's the club. The pool, gym and parking spots? Those are your mandatory amenities. You can't opt out, even if you don't want them.

Why can't those of us who don't crave these luxuries live somewhere simpler? Because those apartments are disappearing fast, and new ones are almost impossible to build. Banks won't finance them, and cities and neighbors fight projects without ample parking and fancy extras. You're left searching for outdated units or facing a grueling commute.

So, where does that $500 a month come from? Parking alone might cost $200-$400 per space, factoring in building costs. Add in the amenities, and that membership fee doesn't look so absurd after all.

And hey, most people do own cars. But what about those of us who don't? Or those who own a car because they can only afford to live farther out, away from where they work? We're subsidizing everyone else's parking and fancy pools.

It's a forced "private club" membership that's baked right into the rent. Imagine a world where every car came with a horse, every plane ticket included a luxury hotel, and every loaf of bread came with a gourmet meal. Sounds absurd, right? Yet, here we are, forced to subsidize pools we never use and parking we don't need just to have a roof over our heads.

The Path to Change

How Do We Fix This? The answer is simple: Make it illegal to bundle housing with anything non-housing. Developers would have to price amenities optionally, at rates that reflect their true cost. No more hidden fees, and no more paying for things you don't want. It's time for a system where those who desire luxury pay for it, and everyone else gets a fair shake at affordable housing.

What Would This Change? Sure, developers might initially fight it. But ultimately, they'd have to adapt. They'd build what the market actually wants and needs — more streamlined housing and less forced luxury. This shift in risk would make a massive difference.

 The Bottom Line. Finding a place to live shouldn't be a luxury package deal. It shouldn't hinge on my willingness to pay for a pool, a gym and a parking spot I'll never use. It's time to dismantle these forced "country clubs" and build a housing market where everyone has a place to call home — without a pool pass attached.


Jeremy Thacker is a Phoenix-based advocate for responsible urban planning and government accountability. With a background in software and technology, he brings a unique perspective to his community involvement. Jeremy previously served on the city's Village Planning Committee, and his experience in land-use issues fuels his passion for shaping local policy. He is a founding member of his area’s Local Conversation, Strong Towns Phoenix, and lives in Uptown Phoenix with his partner, two children and their dog, Hitch.


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