A Rose By Any Other Name...
Yes, thanks again to our own loveable Tuna Girl
, yet another entry about sex toys. Or so you'd think.
Karen's recent post got me thinking about a shopping spree I once went on. Seeing as how you all might be looking for some "dirt" scoop on the naughty nightlife of The High Priestess, you might be disappointed. Don't worry, my little TOMGirls, it's ok. Mary
, and mostly Averie
, you can open your eyes. I'm not gonna gross you out.
As I've mentioned before
, in my post on July 1st, surfing is/has been a big part of my life. I learned to surf before I could walk. In my childhood, I remember my brothers taking me to the beach and we would surf on whatever we could find. There wasn't the "gift" of money in our lives, so my brothers would call an old piece of plywood a surfboard if it served the purpose. Through the years, every now and then, they'd get lucky and find an old, discarded surfboard in a dumpster somewhere or even left abandoned on the beach. I always used my brothers' surfboards or their friends gear if I wanted to play too. That's how it has always been, even when I was older.
I stopped surfing when I was around 19. Charlie didn't even know that surfing was as big a part of my life as it was. I just didn't talk much about it. When we moved away to the midwest, in my misery at being so far away from the ocean, I once commented to him that when we got back to California, I wasn't EVER going to complain again and that I wanted to get back to surfing. Upon our return to the west coast, the first thing I did was go looking at surfboards. As a surprise for my 40th birthday, Charlie and his friends pooled together and bought me my very OWN first surfboard. I call her Nalu Hoku; "Wave Star".
Now, Nalu wasn't a "new" board. New longboards are VERY expensive. And since I'm much too old and out of shape to use a short board (my "shredding" days ended 2 decades ago), a longboard is just what I needed and wanted and the guys obliged me. She's 9 feet, two inches of wet, watery fun. The only thing I needed was a leash. Now hang on here, I'm gonna educate some of you surf grommets (newbies); A leash is a long lead that attaches from the board to the ankle so you don't have to go chasing a runaway board when you wipeout. The leash attaches to the surfboard by a little item called a BUTTPLUG, and the buttplug has a swivel on it so that the leash doesn't get all tangled and twisted like a phone cord. With me so far? Good. So let's go shopping.
I went to a surf shop very close to the break where I like to go surfing. It's called "Blackie's" and most locals in Newport Beach know exactly where you're talking about if you surf Blackie's. It's well known that older longboarders hang out there. The waves aren't too big, just good enough for a "seasoned" surfer. You won't break your neck if you're over 30. When I walked in, as is usually the case for surf shops, the place was full of young, sun-bleached guys and it smelled of coconut scented surf wax. I was basically ignored for awhile. Sure, they looked at me and smiled, but they assumed that I wasn't there for business; just looking.
Finally, a young guy approached me and asked if he could help me. I told him that I needed a surfboard leash. He responded as expected:
He: Oh, your kid need a new leash for his stick?
Me: Well, no. I need a new leash for MY stick.
He: ::pause:: Um, oh. Ok, sorry. Right this way.
Now, right about this time I'm thinking that he probably thinks I'm joking. So, he's gonna test me.
He: So, whatcha riding? Shredder or Longie? ::looks me up and down:: Prolly a longie. Yeah. (Translation: "What kind of surfboard do you have? A shortboard or a longboard? Oh, you're too old to ride a shortboard, so you've probably got a longboard.")
Me: I have a 9'2" Chuck Dent. (I have a 9'2" surfboard made by Chuck Dent)
He: Cool, cool. That got a mono fin? (Great! Is that with a single fin?)
Me: No, it's a tri-fin. (Nope, it has three fins)
He: Those fins boxed-in? :::smug, inquisitive look:::
This is where he thinks he has me. That I'm not gonna know what he's talking about. Fins on surfboards are either boxed-in, meaning they are placed into a small, framed box which is cut into tail of the surfboard and tightened in. They can be removed and replaced at will, or in case of damage. OR, they are glassed-in, meaning they are permanant fins, molded over with fiberglass and literally become part of the body of the board.
Me: No, they're glassed.
He suddenly straightens up and a soft, realization comes over his face. His demeanor changes. I sense a new respect unfolding from this young guy.
He: WOW, very cool. You must be a very confident surfer to go with glassed fins over boxed.
Me: No, I just love the board.
He shows me to the wall where all the leashes are and helps me pick out one that would be best for the size of my board, and for me. I thank him, we talk a few minutes more about surfing, and Hawaii, and our mutual love for the ocean. Then I go to the front of the store to pay. When I get up to the register, there's another guy there and he casually looks at the leash, then looks at me, and then says; "You know there's no swivel on this leash?"
He: There's no swivel. This one sucks. You want one with a swivel or it's gonna get all tangled up.
Me: Oh, ok.
Now, as we're trying to complete this transaction, a few new customers have come up behind me in line with their purchases. All young surfer guys. Before I could respond to the kid at the register, he picks up the store intercom and says:
"LADY AT THE FRONT REGISTER NEEDS A SWIVELING BUTTPLUG!"
At that, the guys in line behind me start snickering and one of them literally blows his gum out of his mouth laughing. You could then hear laughing from various areas of the store. Great. Just great. I stand there, blushing while the guys behind me try to compose themselves. From the back of the store, my original helper comes running, with another leash, this time, with a swiveling buttplug, and he whacks the register kid over the head with it. Saved me the trouble.
I paid for my swiveling buttplug and left.