Fog is drifting up from the surf and swirling outside my windows this morning, enclosing me in the clouds.
I love mornings like this in SoCal. Not only does it actually feel like fall for five minutes, it also means the 85 degree forecast for the Orange County beach cities will actually materialize today.
Coupled with a good surf report, I’m wedging my board into the Benz and hitting San O this afternoon.
It might be the last surf until spring and I’m surfin’ solo today much like I did in Maui. My once trusty surf buddies here in town have all fallen in love with something besides surfing– Her.
Whoever she is, she is not me.
It’s been a good month since someone loaded his board on my racks. I admit, I had the tiniest spark of hope that my beautiful, bearded friend Chase could become more than that but every time we surf together it’s because I instigate it and it’s ruffling my little blond head.
He knows where to find me. So does Maui Max.
I received the “Aw, gee whiz I’m sorry” text right after receiving the blinking red indication my room key didn’t work.
I dropped my head against the door and stood there in paralysis of analysis, as they say.
I coached myself not to cry, not to scream, not to throw my useless room key at the front desk attendant.
Since I had to return to the lobby anyway, I dragged myself and my bags straight to the car rental counter. You may wonder as I did why renting a car on Maui can be as cheap as $14.95? Read the fine print.
Taxes and fees, $50.00.
Overnight parking at your resort hotel? Hand over the plastic again for another $30.00. At least.
This better be worth it.
LIPSTICK LESBIAN LAYOVER
I’m waiting at the desk re-calculating how much to spend on my sister’s Hawaiian-themed wedding gift when I notice there are a lot of women walking by me.
Women sporting various shades of short, spiky hair and thick limbs with tatts.
Now, I hate to stereotype (although I do) because at the rate I’m going I might soon be joining their ranks. But I’m not seeing anyone that Katy Perry might have been moved to kiss, let alone taste of her Cherry Chapstick. Maybe this gal passing me now with her cherry red lipstick..
Did I mention I’m really tired? I’m doing the space out stare and I don’t even notice I’m staring until I realize she’s staring back at me. She has a ring in her lip and a snake curling around a bicep that could bench press me for breakfast.
Whaaaat?! I’m not staring. I mean, I was staring but into nothingness she happened to appear in just like a quantum mechanics theory. Popping in and out of existence which is exactly what I wish I could do right now and — Oh look!
Car rental paperwork.
Yippee! So worth the extra $80 I just shelled out for “miscellaneous fees.”
(This is where I say something like “saved by the bell” but now that I know where that saying originated, it’s not appropriate. Ever.)
Forget Kihei and the knee slappers and the useless room key. I have the real keys to freedom and they work. I drag my tired self directly to my shining knight and here’s another secret flight attendants know: You gotta keep moving.
Enter the room, casually sit on the bed and gravity takes over every good intention you have. Next thing you know, it’s breakfast.
I shimmy out of my uniform in the cantilevered front seat before pointing the car straight to the North Shore.
It might be a fiberglass suicide mission but it beats sitting around the hotel pool with my female crew members during a Lesbian convention.
LOVE ME some PA’IA
I stop in Pa’ia on my way to Ho’okipa State Park. The helpful blue bubble on my I-phone shows me I’m right on top of the stick-pin in the park but instead I’m facing a row of beach boutiques, cafes and surf shops.
Delightful little town! I step into a boutique to ask whether I missed the turn-out and a swirl of miniature-sized sun dresses greets me. My ADHD kicks right in, I forget why I’m there and start shopping for my little niece. This is cute and that and…
The whole town is an ADHD magnet with a pull equally powerful to a crisp, fluffy bed. And then I notice the price on this itty-bitty-teeny-weeny piece of cloth that fits in my palm…
Oh, now I remember.
Turns out Ho’okipa is a mile up the road, just past Mama’s Fish House. The sales clerk was very motherly and little concerned. After pointing out the nearest surf shop where I could rent a board, she looked at me closely.
“Um, honey? You’re not thinking of surfing there, are you? It’s uh… it’s for experts. Locals…”
I imagine the picture I must pose standing in front of her, lost in a pair of cut-offs and holding a frilly pink sundress but come on, how does she know I’m not sponsored by RipCurl?
Okay, could’ve been 20 years ago. 30?
You don’t have to surf to enjoy Ho’okipa State Park. Late afternoon, the sea turtles come up on the shore to rest. That’s worth the trip alone to see these magnificent creatures up close. Don’t Touch.
And by that time of the day, you might even plop on the beach and join them.