This is week two of no working. Jealous? Don’t be.
Ok, well you can be a little.
I decided to head up to my favorite surf shop and have a private lesson. There’s nothing like the smell of salt water to clear your mind, and give your hair that sexy tousled beach look.
I was there at 8am. Yeah, that’s right. I won’t meet you for breakfast at 9 because I’m a lazy s.o.s. but I’ll roll myself out of bed at 7am if it means I’ll be at the beach all day. What can I say, I’ve got priorities.
We surfed for a good 2 hours. Lucky for me it was a full moon. Which means decent waves, a nice change from the usual pea-sized ones I usually ride there.
It’s 2 days later. I’m still in pain.
My surfer dude, Pat, used the word ‘gnarly’ more times in those 2 hours that I thought humanly possible. Heck I didn’t even know there were so many uses of the word!
So, I rode a few waves. Mostly did the knee-up thing. Lame I know, but have you ever been surfing and wiped out on wave numero uno of a set? A set being at least 3. I was beat up and tossed around in those waves like a penny in a dryer.
But I surfaced with a smile. It feels good to have nature kick your ass a little, because when you actually do ride a wave, it’s awesome.
I was smiling and happy and covered in sand and salt-water by the time I climbed into my little blue Saturn and turned her toward the Hampton Bridge.
Only problem. She wasn’t moving. Well she was, but vewy, vewy swowly. So I hit the gas, hear that delicious sound of acceleration, and realize that my car hasn’t moved. I keep trying. A few times more and she lurches forward. Then we are back to 5mph. I called my uncle/mechanic in utter terror and dismay.
“It’s not moving! It’s…it’s…I’m hitting the gas and it’s just like rolling, it’s not doing anything…”
“When you hit the gas do you hear it accelerate?”
“Yeah! But it doesn’t moooove!!”
“….it sounds like your transmission.”
That’s the last thing anybody driving a Saturn wants to hear. “It sounds like transmission.” Because really, it’s so not worth the money to fix it. At all.
Enter AAA. I had my sad little sedan towed home by the nicest ex-Marine I’ve ever met.
Not the end to my “relaxing day of surfing” that I had in mind.