Crew: Khang
Time: ?
Conditions: 3-4 ft, walled with occasional shoulders, inconsistent.
With everything that’s going on in my life I’m losing focus on my priorities, so I’ll try my best to remember this entry. Also, I need to get back on track. Life goes on.
Francis told me he’d be surfing Friday morning as well as Khang. Right after I wake up, I get a call from Shan. “Let me know how it looks like when you get there,” he says. I’m not exactly the biggest fan of this approach to surfing. Nine times out of ten, most people that say this don’t end up paddling out.
It’s Friday, so parking local sucks because of the street cleaning. There's no parking in sight, so I go to my secret garden where I find one spot left. It’s a long walk, but it beats coughing up change for the meter.
When I reach the sand, I don’t see Francis anywhere, but Khang is on the sand stretching by the tower. I try to sneak up on him, but my shadow alerts him. It’s mid tide, but it doesn’t look like it’s making a difference.
“It’s breaking like it’s high tide,” says Khang.
“Yeah, but there looks like there’s some fun ones out there.” We go through our warm up rituals. Once we get to the lineup, we can see 33rd and Rosecrans get some nice rights. Most of the waves that come don’t have any shape where we’re at. Looking back on this session, I can’t remember one stand out wave that I had.
The break in front of the Marine tower looks like it’s working, but it’s so hard to know for sure. The waves always look better somewhere else down the beach, but Khang and I maintain our position. With the rising tide, the walls get more consistent, and anything with decent shape slows down.
Bobbing in the water and sitting on our boards, Khang looks at me and says, “We should definitely try HB next time.”
I call my last wave in, and Khang gets his before me. He actually gets a decent right. I see him from the back trimming down the line, wrapping it back around, and then redirecting towards the shore. My last wave never comes. Khang patiently waits on the sand, but eventually starts walking towards the showers. I see him and Francis talking. “Happy birthday,” I say to Francis.
“Thanks, Matt. My birthday’s tomorrow, though.”
“Okay, well, I’ll give you one now and one later.” We tell him how the surf this morning isn’t that great, and that we’ll see him later tonight at his party.
Back at the home, Lauren is packing up her belongings. It’s official. Her family and friends are coming over tomorrow to pick up her shit and take off. Even though we’re on good terms, I’m bitter. I can’t believe she’s leaving, walking away from all this. I remain tight lipped throughout the day. We already had our share of tears, and I know I’m tired of crying myself.
I have a decision to make. It’s Lauren’s last night, but Francis’ birthday is also tonight. I can hang out with Lauren her last night here, or I can stick with my commitments and go to my buddy’s birthday party that’s been planned weeks ago. I tell her that I need to at least show my face.
“That’s fine,” she says. “It’s hard to pack when you’re here. You should go.”
Nicole catered food for Frans, and there’s a nice showing at their place. Francis tells me that the surf was good by Marine, and that he had a peak with only three other guys. Figures. They have food catered from Rutt’s Hawaiian Restaurant as well as a guava cake from King’s Hawaiian Bakery. There is also a ton of beer and a couple pizzas. The vibe is good. Everyone’s talking story, and groups of people are clustered, having their own conversations while American Idol plays on the TV. I’m doing my best to be part of the festivities, but I feel like shit. I should be home, I’m thinking. I think about Lauren packing, how tomorrow the DRC is taking a trip for Sauce’s birthday down south, and how tonight is my last night being with her as a couple in our once-happy-home. I’m grieving amongst the smiling faces, drinking, and laughter; I can’t let go. I stay for a good two hours and head back. Lauren’s still packing. It’s hard to watch.
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