The Eddie Went

500 words

I didn’t show up expecting much. I decided last minute to ride my bike all the way from Waialua to watch the Eddie. I’ve gone almost every time it’s run. I was 16 at the first contest in 1985. I thought for sure I’d be invited to compete by now, but you might be surprised to hear that I’m 54 and still waiting. I always went with my buddies and once I got married my wife, Flora, made it our thing. She loved to surf too, but everytime we saw big surf she reminded me I better not go out in anything big, shallow, or sharky. It was only me she was concerned about! She would have loved to see the women competing this year.

Shit, she would have loved to go out on one of these waves. It’s funny in the sad, unfair, awful kind of funny that, after all these years of worrying about me, she went first. “Cancer is so not sexy” she told me, all bolo head, wearing a silk scarf her friend had hand-dyed. “Can’t we just skydive and then I never deploy the parachute?” I hated when she joked like that because it made me cry. She passed in 2010, and I missed the Eddie in 2016. This year I was ready to try again. Alone.

Nah, not totally alone. I packed my YETI backpack with a couple of 7/11 triangle sandwiches and beers from home, including Smirnoff something from my 24-year-old daughter. She’s trying some dry January thing and I figured the ladies there might not like beer. I’m considerate, you know? I was so sweaty when I arrived but felt the energy. I felt Flora, but her presence wasn’t a downer. More like she was out there saying, do your thing. So I did, I’m a social guy! I made friends with everyone. People from everywhere, all ages, one drone guy who took a picture of me and my buddy. I traded him four beers. For everyone else I joked it was $85 each drink, $185 if they looked like a tourist. Good fun, everybody laughed. They relied on me to supply their beer and food, so when we ran out I restocked at Pūpūkea Foodland. I’m a provider. Always have been. Walking back through the hordes of spectators I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. “Hi, do you have extra water?” Brah. For you? Oh yeah. Short hair, salt and pepper bob, skin like she loved the ocean, halter top and honu tattoo, the stunning lady introduced herself as Danielle. I told her about my spot, and since she had come alone she agreed to join. Good thing I made friends with everyone earlier so I didn’t look like some creep. We talked for the rest of the contest, and she eventually gave me her number to “make the sandwiches next contest.” My daughter said later, “she was literally just thirsty.” No, Danielle was exactly who I didn’t expect.

 

450 words

I didn’t show up expecting much. I decided last minute to ride my bike all the way from Waialua to watch the Eddie. I’ve gone almost every time it’s run. I was 16 at the first contest in 1985. I thought for sure I’d be invited to compete by now, but you might be surprised to hear that I’m 54 and still waiting. I always went with my buddies and once I got married my ex-wife, Flora, made it our thing. She loved to surf too, but she took it so seriously, like it was her job. She would have loved to see the women competing this year. Shit, she would have loved to ride one of these waves. She’s probably watching the livestream in California with some rich, six-pack guy. Flora left suddenly in 2010, saying that she just needed a new adventure, but I saw the package of lingerie someone else sent. Depressed, I missed the Eddie in 2016, but this year I wanted to try again. Alone.

Nah, not totally alone. I packed my YETI backpack with a couple 7/11 triangle sandwiches and beers from home, including Smirnoff something from my 24-year-old daughter. She’s trying some dry January thing and I figured the ladies there might not like beer. I’m considerate, you know? I was so sweaty when I arrived but felt the energy. I felt Flora too, but her presence didn’t get me down. It was like she was saying, I messed up. Move on. So I did, I’m a social guy! I made friends with everyone. People from everywhere, all ages, one drone guy who took a picture of me and my buddy. I traded him four beers. For everyone else I joked it was $85 each drink, $185 if they looked like a tourist. Good fun, everybody laughed. They relied on me to supply their beer and food, so when we ran out I restocked at Pūpūkea Foodland. I’m a provider. Always have been. Walking back through the hordes of spectators I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. “Hi, do you have extra water?” Brah. For you? Oh yeah. Short hair, salt and pepper bob, skin like she loved the ocean, halter top and honu tattoo, the stunning lady introduced herself as Danielle. I told her about my spot, and since she had come alone she agreed to join. Good thing I made friends with everyone earlier so I didn’t look like some creep. We talked for the rest of the contest, and she eventually gave me her number to “make the sandwiches next contest.” My daughter said later, “she was literally just thirsty.” No, Danielle was exactly who I didn’t expect.

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