Not Worth the Price of Admission

Today's damn session cost me exactly $22.68. That money would have been better spent on:
a) half a tank of 87 octane gasoline for the surf mobile;
b) fish tacos (me), a grilled halibut plate (Soul Brother #1), and rice with part of the fish from my tacos (Soul Brother #2);
c) a quick trip through the Express Line at Ralphs; or
d) all of the above.
Unlike the multiple choice questions you see on exams, any answer you chose would have been correct.

This was truly a day to stay in. But there would be none of that. It was the first time in over a month that CYT and I would be surfing together. If there was surf to be had, we were going to find it . . . without driving too far. I lined up the babysitter. My board was graced with a new coat of wax. Although I felt somewhat tired from a week of good workouts in addition to a week of work, I was ready to hit it. As usual, CYT and I did our search for surf in her car. That's not a bad thing . . . unless . . . you end up at El Porto. CYT rarely has paper cash and never has coins. I, on the other hand, always keep quarters in my car. But we weren't in my car, dammit!! (I think I'm hyperventilating from being completely disgusted by this session.) Alright, alright. We started out thinking the Breakwater would have a little something. Well, it had a little nothing. Not a thing. We didn't even look. As we drove around the narrow streets in Venice, a guy with a surfboard in the back of his truck said we needn't bother to look. CYT wondered if we should believe him. I said we should. So we then went to the Pier, just go take a look, a look at the bathtub-sized ripples in the ocean. There was no way we were going to drive all over the place looking for waves. I only had the babysitter for a few hours and the gas prices killed my enthusiasm for driving to faraway surf spots. And this is how we ended up at El Porto with me realizing we couldn't surf there without quarters. We stopped at the Chevron station. CYT went in to get quarters, right? She came out with Chapstick and four quarters. (I knew they'd make her buy something.) Four quarters was not going to be enough. I went in with my $5 (which is all I had since the $20 at home was reserved for the babysitter and I don't get paid until Friday). I got a $1.68 bottle of Gatorade and asked that one dollar of my change be in quarters. That meant we now had nine quarters. No problem, I thought. Problem! The waves sucked. There was little shape. There was too much wind. There was red tide. There were the dreaded "Victory at Sea" conditions that I detest. Was it fun? No. Did you catch anything? Yes. Would you have felt better had you stayed home and saved your money? Yes. That's how truly pathetic it was out there today. Will I try to go again tomorrow? No. I can't afford it.