Surfers

Surfers! Aren’t they quite something!

A year ago, I spent some time in Gran Canaria, a place with soooo many sexy surfers, shining in their wetsuits like glazed cakes on a food porn shooting. 

However, I’ve never intentionally laid my eyes nor my hands on any of those hundreds of surfers in Las Canteras, El Confital, La Cicer. 

I’ve got all the information just from reading some books, doing some library research. I found out that surfers are human beings who deserve our respect and consideration for their.. inner beauty. And are not to be treated like objects of any kind. 

Personally I have accidentally looked only once in the direction of a surfer. And that one was doing the Christian sign of the cross. He had the enthusiasm of a kamikaze and the dexterity of a Pope. This pious moment also involved a quick scratching of the butt, some spitting and belching. With the dexterity of a Pope. As well as the enthusiasm.

The guy performed all these operations BEFORE taking a plunge in the ocean. So I assume those are the standard safety measures for all surfers. And for a reason. Surfing is a dangerous thing. And I can’t help asking myself why would someone live his life on the edge of a surfboard? Why would you risk breaking your neck surfing a 30 meter high point break?

To hide your 99 mermaid tattoos under the neoprene suit? 

To get a free waxing of the legs thanks to your freshly waxed surfboard?

To feel a tingle of pleasure for being chained to your board with a leash like you’re the Slave and the boogie-board your Master?

No, I don’t think so.

Here’s the likeliest reason why people take up surfing. It’s not for the water experience in itself. It’s only for the outside the water experience. 

All surfers want to walk around the beach like dolphins in flip-flops, attracting mating partners with a few ultrasounds and a body shake.

Does it work?

Yes. Up until the rum’s effect wears off. Like for the rest of us.