Surfline Man is certain that a terrible surfing disaster awaits him.
When we last saw him, Surfline Man had just received an invitation to surf the world’s most perfect wave. That’s right, Surfline Man is going to Surf Ranch and he can’t even believe it.
Surfline Man is pretty sure he is the luckiest kid in the whole world right now.
The invite to Surf Ranch came from Trey, the former VP of Marketing and Sales at Elevate!, the start-up where Surfline Man tried to win capitalism.
Of course, the startup failed and Surfline Man did not win capitalism.
But he did find surfing, so that we all could win.
Trey is not Surfline Man’s favorite person ever and Surfline Man is totally over that whole phony tech scene.
But if Surfline Man is honest, and most of the time he is, he will admit he would pretend to like just about anyone to go to Surf Ranch.
For the past month, Surfline Man has prepared meticulously for his big trip. Surfline Man is feeling so much pressure right now. He simply must surf better than Trey and the other tech bros. It’s like, so essential to his sense of self and important stuff like that. Surfline Man is so good at surfing now.
He just has to prove it.
Ahead of his big day, Surfline Man has been working out super hard. Abs, he really must have good abs. They help with surfing so much! Surfline Man isn’t sure exactly how good abs will help him, but he’s pretty sure he read something about it on the internet once.
Surfline Man has been working his very hardest, and if he doesn’t quite have six-pack abs, he is not about to admit it. The abs on those magazine covers at Whole Foods are definitely photoshopped, anyway. Surfline Man is sure of it. There are just so many lies in the world. It’s hard to keep track of them all.
Surfline Man has also spent way too much time obsessing about his board choices. He has learned that some of the very best pros surf epoxy boards at Surf Ranch. It seems there’s something about fresh water and less buoyancy and stuff. Surfboards can get so confusing so quickly. It’s just so overwhelming!
Surfline Man has zero regrets about the Pyzel Ghost he impetuously bought. But he’s thinking maybe he should have some options.
And, let’s be real.
How fucking rad will he look rocking up to the Ranch with a quiver of boards under his arm. Very fucking rad. This is very important what with the tech bros and the vibes. Surfline Man is determined to look so pro.
Then, suddenly it’s time to go.
Surfline Man packs his Sprinter with the most care ever. Just the essentials! Fresh avocados. Organic bread. A box of GoMacro bars. Emergency organic mac ’n’ cheese. Yeti soft cooler full of his favorite Kamboucha. Rinse kit. A stack of freshly washed towels. Surfline Man always buys organic towels. So good for the environment! New organic blanket. Perfect for bringing the beach vibes!
Surfline Man agonizes over his wetsuit selection.
He’s pretty sure his 4/3 makes him look fat, but he’d hate to be too cold to surf awesome. And Surfline Man really wants to surf awesome. Better take one of everything, he figures. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it’ll be warm. Surfline Man always feels fabulous in his Patagonia long john. His shoulders look so super jacked.
Board choice. OMG, the pressure!
Surfline Man went to, like, three different shops and couldn’t find any epoxy surfboards. Another one of those supply chain things or something. Surfline Man has decided the internet is totally lying to him and he doesn’t need a stupid epoxy board anyway. He’s certain he’ll be just fine.
Still, Surfline Man bought two more boards. Surfboards! How could he possibly resist? He just loves them so much.
Surfline Man carefully slides his Pyzel Ghost, his CI Happy, and his CI Happy Everyday into his van. With the whole tech bro reunion and the nerves of surfing the world’s most perfect wave, Surfline Man feels like he needs all the Happy he can get.
Then he adds his red fish from Mike the Shaper. Surfline Man is pretty sure he is not going to ride his red fish that Mike the Shaper made just for him at the Surf Ranch, but he feels certain that it adds to his cred.
Surfline Man is pretty sure none of the tech bros have a perfect custom, hand-made board. Also, the resin tint looks so sweet.
It would be so much more pro if all Surfline Man’s boards were the same brand. But Surfline Man is determined not to let his mismatched quiver and not-quite-visible abs keep him up at night.
Life is imperfect. A man can only do the best he can.
Driving north on the 5, Surfline Man begins the long climb up the Grapevine. Just past Gorman, he stops at the Flying J and fills his Yeti mug with fresh coffee. The donuts look so good, but mindful of his hard-won abs, Surfline Man regretfully skips the pastry case. He tops off the gas tank on the Sprinter and rolls out. It would be super bad to be late.
Sprinter van swaying like a ship at sea through the corners, Surfline Man descends into the Central Valley flatlands. He read somewhere that the Valley runs slightly uphill from south to north. But he can’t even tell. Probably another lie. Surfline Man feels a moment of indecision at junction of the 5 and the 99. The 5. He wants the 5.
Surfline Man is getting so close now.
As he swoops through exit to the Kettleman City, the nerves take hold for real. His hands sweat on the steering wheel. He’s pretty sure his organic tee totally has armpit stains right now. Ugh.
The closer Surfline Man gets to Lemoore, the more anxiety he feels. No amount of singing along to Jack Johnson can make him feel better. Surfline Man is totally afraid he’s going to fall on his face or miss the barrel or cut himself on his fins.
Surfline Man is certain that a terrible surfing disaster awaits him. For sure, all the bros are totally going to laugh at him. He should have brought some of those CBD gummies or something. In a haze of anxiety, Surfline Man nearly misses his turn.
Then he’s there.
Surfline Man is at the gate. Surf Ranch!
He stretches his super toned arm through the window the Sprinter and punches the button on the intercom. A metallic voice asks for his name. Surfline Man is so excited he can barely remember.
Trent, he blurts.
Slowly, the gates swing open.