One Surf Stand: Volume 2

This installment of what is already the number one grossing box office hit blog series, One Surf Stand, centers around one man, me, and one very strange and clueless man, call him Ryan because he looks a little like my friend Ryan.

I pulled up to a notoriously localized surf spot in Los Angeles County after realizing the beachbreaks were too closed out to surf and there was plenty of swell. I slyly checked the waves, they looked fun, and I crept back to my car to change and get my froth on. Into the spot next to me pulled a silver VW beetle, model year circa 2005. Out stepped Ryan in full wetsuit with attached hood, booties and gloves. He was wet and clearly stoned. He had somehow fit a 7'6" egg into said car and began to remove it.

"Is it good out there?" Ryan asked as I turned my dry wetsuit right side out.
"I'm just about to paddle out," I replied before returning to my state of psyche.
"Ah yeah I heard it's good. Hey bro, can you back my bowl for me?" He said, handing me his weed and pipe, unable to pack his own pipe due to his unnecessary wetsuit gloves.
"Uh, sure."
"Don't worry, I have a card (allowing him to legally purchase, possess and smoke marijuana in California)."

I performed the duty, quite well I might add. He offered me a hit and I declined. The nug I had broken off to pack the bowl would have been a nice gesture though. He made sure I put it back in his prescription case.

"So it's cool to surf out here right?" he said.
"Yeah, just stay under the radar."
"Oh yeah...(stony laugh) what do you mean by that?"
"Just stay out of people's way and don't drop in, you should be cool."
He replied with stony laugh.

The waves were excellent and I was achieving full tail release at will. Ryan, with his egg, hooded suit with green trim and lack of WASPyness stood out like a sore thumb. He was clearly a beginner. He proceeded to do precisely what I suggested he didn't do. He dropped in on me, the guy who was the gatekeeper to his crispyness in the parking lot, three times. He was also generally oblivious and hazardous to other surfers. When I finally was ready to leave I looked out and saw Ryan right in the middle of one of the most contentious lineups for miles.

I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and fear Ryan may have received a beating at the hands of the locals at a spot such as this one. I certainly wouldn't do so, but I have seen some bad things happen for less. Please Ryan, lose the gloves unless it's sub-50 Fahrenheit and stay under the radar. And learn what an analogy is. And offer a nug if someone packs your bowl and declines a rip.