I was awake at 5:30 am, listening to the weather cube, "Six feet at seven seconds with a light SW wind." That's all I needed to be out the door, with my wetsuit already on. Big mistake. You'd think I would have learned that you never, ever, leave with the wetsuit on, because that insures that the waves will suck. And, true to historical facts, I had the worst session of my life this morning.
Andy met me on the road as I walked toward the dunes. He wasn't going out. It sucked. Oh dang it to all heck. I had my board under my arm, I was committed. It was so small! How could this be? I could see the current was ripping, too, even though the waves looked a measly two feet, tops.
Sure enough, it was a waste. I caught about three before I called it a day and gave up. That was just a big bowl of suck. Every wave closed out. I left and got ready for work.
The day was just one thing after another, after that. A cockroach the size of Massachusetts made its way across the wall as I sat down to breakfast. Gag. It was so big I became nearly paralyzed and couldn't get up the nerve to do anything. I finally approached it with a wad of napkins, made a half-assed attempt to squash it, but its wings were flapping and I did this little smack that only made it race away. Next thing I knew the cat was after it. Go, Stimpy! I told him to get it, get it, and he tried, but then it got away. Now I have to live in fear that it lingers within these walls, plotting its revenge.
So, work was a pain. All the changes are IBS inducing. No one knows anything, and it seems it is gloom and doom everywhere you turn. Then, I get out of work, listen to my messages, and Bob is saying that he and Cindy got into a car accident! Cindy has staples in her head, and the car is totaled. Whaaaa??? I call Bob, and he assures me they are okay, just the victims of some old couple who ran a red light and T-boned them! God, what next?
The last message is from Andy. He said he went out surfing on his lunch break, and that he actually had fun. I race out to the pier, and sure enough, the wind has turned directly offshore and there are some little peelers breaking in the sunlight. I grabbed the Dominator and hit it.
There was only one guy out, and he was way down by sixteenth street. It looked so much like a day on the Gulf, where a day like this would be reason to quit your job to surf. It was only about waist high, but there were some little tubes now and then. It got better and better, and I realized that I was having fun. More people started coming out, and then I looked over and saw Andy, smiling back at me.
"Hey, you! How about NO for a change?"
We had so much fun tonight. We forgot about our work troubles, the danger of simply driving our cars, and how we never seem to get enough waves. We enjoyed the last hour of sunlight... the waves stood up and rifled off, and we enjoyed what we had, right there in front of us.
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