"Are You a Professional Surfer?"

Obviously, he'd fallen and hit his head before asking me that question. My response, "ME????" He must not have been wearing his glasses (contacts?) when I did my spectacular face plant after walking to the nose on my first long wave.

Yesterday, I went back to surf where the tribe surfs. I'd not been there since May. I don't surf that place during the summer months. Too crowded. Too aggro. Too likely to result in me, of all people, giving someone the stink-eye and an invitation to take it to the beach. But now I'll go back there every so often. You can't beat that wave. And now that the crowd has thinned, its downright civilized out in the lineup again. ("Civilized" meaning you'll have one person rather than 12 dropping in on you.)

I don't think I did anything worthy of being confused for a pro. Perhaps to him I looked just like the blonde girl hanging ten. Yeah, that must be what it was.