I jump out of the car and rush because it's already 5pm and it's getting colder and darker by the second.
See you out there. Joe slams his boot shut and turns to go. And then stops.
Shit, do you reckon I need wax? he asks me, looking at his board.
I reckon if you're thinking about it then you probably do, Joe.
Ugh, nah. I already locked my car, he decides and turns again to go.
I've got some if you want? I offer.
What is it?
Orange Sex Wax.
Ah, a connoisseur. He walks over and takes the dirty, white cake out of my hand. I didn't think you'd use this.
Huh? I look at him, confused.
Well, what type of wax did you think I'd use?
I dunno. Maybe Palmers or something.
Nope. No Palmers. I just get this.
Although I got the feeling it was throwaway line, I was instantly intrigued as to how I could be so particularly defined as a type of wax? And why it even matters?
I've known Joe for ages but I hadn't ever surfed with him til he recently began dabbling in longboards. He's a good surfer but usually surfs much different breaks than me, and I think he is kind of surprised to be in the water with me now.I also think he had a host of assumptions about me and surfing before we first surfed together the other evening.
The next morning I bumped into him and some other friends down at the shops and we all got talking about surfing and longbording. Like quite a few people I know, the other guys don't EVER ride longboards (no, never, ever, not at all and don't even bring it up because they will shun you like you have the plague!) and they were wondering why Joe is longboarding more at the moment,
I dunno actually. It's fun. It feels different. A different experience.
The other guys look unconvinced and one of them, Rob, pipes up,
I'll never ride a mal. Not til I'm old and fat and can't ride anything else.
I roll my eyes at him, drink from my coffee and stay quiet. Why bother arguing? I don't care anyway. I don't care how or where or what he surfs, or why. He might as well surf on the moon for all it bothers me. He surfs his way and thinks it's the only way and doesn't really rate any other approach to surfing. Thruster, fast waves, barrels: that's Rob.
And that's fine. I have loads of friends who surf like that, but I don't and it doesn't mean I have to and it doesn't mean I want to. And it doesn't mean I have to be so close-minded about the ways that other people surf either.
Rob is looking at me, wanting me to bite. But I won't. I won't bite because despite all the shit he gives me, I've realised something that he doesn't know...
...we both use Orange Sex Wax.