And introducing the "kook rhombus"!
“Jesus Haploid Christ! I’m an idiot,” I think, remembering what happened in the surf this morning.
Relative to my ability, I had negotiated the crumminess of the waves and crowd with uncharacteristic finesse.
I had gotten greedy and paddled back out after what should’ve been a session-ender.
A voice.
“Hey, Karl?”
“Huh?”
I angled my head to get a view of him. It was Conner, from the office.
“Oh, hi, Connor.”
“I didn’t know you surfed!” he said excitedly.
“Yeah.”
“This is so cool! Hey, Aiden is out today, too. He’s just out there,” he said pointing towards the lineup.
As I got closer, I noticed Aiden and his glistening beard on a mid-length, sitting with a female, Connor’s girlfriend, Dana, who I’m pretty sure ended up working for Herbalife, getting “hired” on there after doing her SDSU MBA program final consulting project on one of the company’s semesterly marketing studies projects meant to make it seem more legitimate and less swindle-y and pyramid-scheme-y.
“Hey, look what the cat dragged in,” said Connor as we got to the others, forming a sort of circle, a kook rhombus.
“Hey, man! So cool to see you surfing out here!” said Aiden, loudly.
“Yeah.”
“Now that we know you surf, we should do this more often!” said Connor.
“Yeah.”
I pretended I’d seen something and paddled a little to the north to get away.
The group followed.
Angrily panicked thoughts raced through my head.
“What the fuck? Why are they following me? This is why I don’t tell anyone I surf… ugh…only my family, my girlfriend, and one other girl I was interested in ten years ago, who I grew up with and also surfed, knew! And now I’m surfing with three VALs… I mean, Aiden has been surfing for seven years (so I remember him making a big deal about then) at least and rides a shortboard… no, he’s still a VAL!”
“Hey!” said Connor, breaking the spiral. “Aiden was thinking of heading up to Rincon this weekend, he’s been looking at swell charts and forecasts for the last two weeks. I wasn’t going to go, though now that we know you surf, too, maybe we can all make a trip out of it!”
“Is there going to be any surf even? Anyway, I’m going to be pretty busy this weekend,” I lied.
“OK. That’s cool. Well, maybe we can do something over Thanksgiving weekend. Aiden was telling me that Bryce was thinking about getting into surfing.”
“Bryce?”
“The mega-investor guy our company brought in for our training unit on Corporate Social Responsibility,” said Aiden. “I’ve been talking to him for awhile, trying to butter him up?”
“For what? Doesn’t he only invest in startups? Like those bullshit startups that don’t even offer products or services, existing for who knows why?” I asked.
“Yeah, but…” he trailed off.
I said, “Social climbing. Got it. He’s Hurley Man.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Aiden went quiet.
“With Bryce, you can call yourselves The Alphabet Group or Alphabet, Inc,” I said.
“Like the Google company?” asked Aiden.
“Yeah, I guess, sorry,” I said, no one getting the reference.
Everyone went quiet.
“What kind of music do you listen to?” asked Dana to cut the non-actual tension tension.
“I don’t know. A little of this, a little of that. I usually just like individual songs,” I said.
Connor caught a left on his 5’10” MF Little Marley (Aqua), stiff legged and going straight, only slightly angled so as to perceive he’s going down the line.
“Do you listen to Sublime?” she asked.
“Do I look like a fifteen-year old pothead? They sucked even when they were relevant,” I said, causing her to noticeably wince.
“Oh, Connor loves them. Since he’s started surfing, he’s gotten really into them. And Jack Johnson, who we all listen to.”
“Oh, um, cool. I think I’m going to paddle in. It was nice seeing you… guys.”
I started paddling in, not even waiting for a wave anymore. As I was paddling, I passed Connor.
“Hey, so think about Thanksgiving weekend,” he said.
“Yeah,” I lie.
I make it to the car and drive home to hop in the shower to rinse myself of the stench of the session.
Three hours later, I receive a flurry of texts. Apparently, I have been pulled into a work surfing group text thread that meanders from Surf Ranch to Tavi “strike missions”. I make sure not to answer any of the messages unless directly addressed.
I ignore the vibrating block on my nightstand, checking in periodically for some unknown reason, only to make sure none of them are talking to me.
I glance at my phone and there is a text from Aiden, “Karl, should I get a Black and White or a Sampler?”
“Sampler is a terrible board.”
“OK. I’ll get a 6’1” Black and White.”
“Why 6’1”?”
“The site says ‘should be ridden about your same height to two inches longer’.”
“OK.”
Disappointed with myself for answering, I turn off my phone and boot up the computer.
Time for a new job.
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Great read, surf dystopian yet very funny. Reminded me that a friend who has never surfed told me he ordered a SUP online and he’ll pick me up soon and go down the coast. Of course we are no longer friends.
I yell ‘Shark’ every now and then. Usually when a pack of chatty VALs paddle on to the bank I have spent weeks scoping out and enjoying.
Always a good move to hide your surfing habit from work. Less suspicion when you happen to get sick the same day as the big swell that’s on the news.
Having been invited on a midweek photo session around 85 , down to M……. , with a 2 other mates and the photographer ….. I started to plan my attack ….. the day before , after smoko , I started complaining of feeling a bit weak in the stomach,I didn’t eat lunch at all and went and sat in the toilet for 1/2 an hour ,feigning illness , and at 3.30 said I hoped I’d be well enough to work the next day . Ring up at 6am the next day …. can’t come in gastro and vomiting all night .
Great trip , lots of good waves and photos ….. so the day after …. applied sunscreen and baby powder to my face to give the impression of illness and refuse smoko but come good and eat lunch … and we were all happy with the outcome .
I walked into the owners office and said I could lie to you or tell you the truth, but there is something I have to tell you.
He smiled.
I told him the truth. He told my co workers the lie.
Occasional absences due to surfing. I worked harder and longer than anyone… throw me a bone. He was an avid golfer so I also expressed, “If you knew that Augusta National was empty tomorrow and all yours, would you take off work?”.
Still friends 35 years later.
Trying to be responsible , at 18 , I told my first boss the situation and that I would like to take some days of for competing and he said “ NO WAY ! NEVER ! “
So from then on he was given an altered version of the truth ……
bingo…
Nice work Karl.
It was the reason , besides being unemployable and unwanted , why I never wanted to work in the surf industry …..
What happens when you make your passion , raison d’être , your personal form of aquatic corporal expression , outdoor exercise , communion with nature and above all the escape from the all the horrible shit that goes on on land ……. your job ?
How then do you escape ?
The kook rhombus is amazing, made me laugh loud to myself.
Shame on the editor for putting a spoiler into the subtitle
i stopped reading when you said you don’t like sublime.
Get out of there Karl, you’ve been burned, cover blown. Quit and get away, you must have a go bag stashed somewhere with a few Ks, passport, and burner phone. Just go. Run. Save yourself bro, we’ll pray for you.
In a small town getting to know the covid Kooks was quite lovely, I see them all in a different light. Now that normal activity has resumed most have given up the ghost but the ones who remain are nice and rather polite and know their limitations.
Pre-COVID, I used to surf a beach that required a bit of a walk into. Couldn’t see it from the road. For about 18 months the only other two regulars I saw were a VAL, choosing to learn in relative isolation and an older bloke. After about 6 months of the barest of acknowledgement, and recognising the VAL was committed, (there at dawn every morning), I offered a small tip on something or another. It was the first time we had actually spoken. In the 12 months after that, we would say hello and that was about it unless he asked a specific question.
The other bloke; nothing. Didn’t get more than a nod the whole time. Good surfer. Later, (after that 18 month window, the sand shifted/a gutter formed and it went to shit), we met in a non-surfing related circle. Gradually recognised each other. We surf together a fair bit, every now and then, and I occasionally go out to his block of land out the back of town and jam with him and a mate of his. Have a look at his latest shaping effort.
The first bloke’s missus used to walk on the beach while he surfed. They had a baby and haven’t seen him since.
Isn’t life beautiful at times.
Great, if depressing imagery Karl!
Thanks, ric!
you here or there?
reason 4,592 not to work in an office
I started wearing
T-shirts from Target to hide
Kolohe wrecked that
Great work KVF 👍
Them: Oh so you’re a surfer?
Me: Errrrr… Used to… Not these days
Them: Great neck tan line!
Me: It’s genetic
Now you know how I feel when I paddle out into the Beach Grit comments line-up only to find Derek Hynd’s Missing Fins, Hippy, JohnsKnee, Wilbur and VONR core dorking about.
Aw man, civil discourse is what America was built on. Well I mean that and slavery. OK maybe a little foreign meddling/deposing people we don’t like and our glorious military-industrial complex too.
Guaranteed if we sat down with a beer and maybe you cooked up a venison backstrap we’d have more in common than not. Bexy on the other hand…
Succinct history and spot on.
I could heal you.
Dude, you have be able to know what you are talking about first. (Wink emoji).
Bex Powders might do the trick ?
I tried to have a convo with Cavy but all he talked about was faeces
Destroyed!!! Hahaha
Fecal ( lives ) Matter !
What do you have against kooks?
I know, right? It’s so bad, Otto’s developed a bad case of Eisoptrophobia.
Classic!
Hoping Otto writes a new BG genre Ammo-lit and talks about stalking the lineup punching out fins.
That would be me amigo…
He punched yours out or you do the stalking?
I hear stab has some half assed banks full of kooks that you could be the king of.
The comment section is the only place you paddle isn’t it?
Nope. I paddle at Glamis too.
brrrraaaaap
I feel like you’d be more at home in the comments section on Koby Abbertons Insta page
It’s something else lately.
So basically you just described a Stab staff lunch surf session, the only difference being Ashton would be talking about that time he surfed Pipe with Derek Ho.
And trying to tell anyone who’ll listen they “looked like Gerry out there” …
I loathe people that talk in the water.
Sometimes I refer to them as a cackle…. of chickens sqwauking. That usually shuts them up, FYI.
Or go into full hassle mode, that works really well, but you won’t be friends on land.
That absolute worst. Not out there for a social catch up. Groups of friends going surfing together is also the absolute worst.
Work and surfing life must never be allowed to collide.
Torquay is the absolute worst place on earth for this. Wank, wank, wank. Probably worse places really but they think they’re being cool and subtle although fully posturing. Cringe.
Let em talk and paddle past and take all sets … happens every time