I showed up about ten minutes early and watched the waves as I waited for my best surf buddy, Missed-It-Mike. I really enjoy surfing with him and my showing up early really shows it.
Unfortunately, Mike didn't feel the same way, as he showed up twelve minutes late.
I swallowed my sadness and internalized it, adding it to my ever-growing mountain of suppressed emotions. My head doctor says one day I will have a nervous breakdown unless I surround myself with people who are positive influences in my life, but until I find them, M-I-M will have to do.
I explained to him that it was closing out A LOT, but we should still find some corners out there. He uncharacteristically made the call for us to get out there, and did so quickly.
We walked out and hit the water just north of 20th Street.
My first wave was the best of the morning. I tucked into a sick right barrel and went for a ways before the closeout reduced my chances for glory to chances-of-Gary-Johnson-winning-the-election numbers. I succumbed to my fate and re-surfaced.
My next three waves were too similar. Lefts on which I would take off and kick my board up in the air within three seconds of popping up, due to the waves' tendency to close out.
I caught a couple of rights where I had time for a mini-pump, but not much else.
We went in after about an hour, bummed.