On Friday night, Scott and I went over to my parent’s house. My dad and Kevin were in the yard, assessing the waves and my mom was inside assessing the groceries my dad and I bought earlier for dinner. It was high tide and the surf was slow, but every 15 minutes or so a few good ones broke right in front of the house. The wind was dying down and the ones that broke peeled gently on the outside until they pounded like angry fists on the shallow sandbar that comes back when the south swells push the sand to the beaches.
Scott grabbed his board and his wetsuit and so did Kevin. Kelly and her friend, Sea trickled in and down the stairs. I grabbed some fins from my bag and put them in one of my old Nezzy surfboards I hadn’t ridden since last summer. There were two dings in the swallow parts of the tail, but I stuffed wax in them so I could take the board out, vowing only to get a few with the shoddy repair job. My dad said he was too tired after his surf earlier and was content snapping some photos from the yard with a beer in hand. He had been out with Kevin in the morning, but waited for me to get there and because of this he was surfing for three hours! He had a good excuse and I accepted it. I threw on a hat with a neck strap and my swim suit and ran down the stairs with my dinged board.
We all took turns catching a few waves and even thought there weren’t that many, they were fun to ride when they came and the water was warm. I was stoked to see Kevin, Kelly and Sea getting some long rides on their longer boards. Kelly has a real graceful style and I love how she allows the wave to take her where it wants. She doesn’t force anything. On one left, I attempted to get barreled in the shore pound and instead found myself slamming feet first into the sandy bottom, my hat ripping completely off from the impact and floating to the sand. Sometimes I loved getting worked.
When we came up we helped with dinner. Kelly and Sea chatted for a minute before they left. I love Kelly. I’ve only known her a few years, but I feel like I could tell her anything and she wouldn’t judge me or tell anyone. She knowns a lot of things because she’s had a lot of experiences and she’s probably fifteen years older than me, but she doesn’t act condescending when she gives advice. She’s a good one. Kevin packed up and got ready to leave, but we invited him in for wine and then forced him to stay for food. No ones tells a good dirty joke quite like Kevin and even though I usually cover my ears and act like I’m going to puke up my food when he’s saying them, I usually tell his jokes again later. He’s the least awkward person I know. I told my mom that the other day when we were making up a hypothetical “awkward scale” (10 being really awkward and 1 being not at all. I’m at least a 6 or 7 and Kevin is a 1 or 0).
My parent’s house is a bit of a community surf shack at times and with me being an introvert, I’m not always thrilled to rock up to their place only to find a full house. But you know what? The people really are what make this place special.
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