The coffee shop had a drink called the Trophy Wife, a sure sign that I’d strayed a long way from my usual neighborhood. Which, is not to say that there are no trophy wives where I live, just that none of the local coffee shops had ever seen fit to celebrate them with a menu item. I never did find out what was in the Trophy Wife, though as it turned out, there was also a Gold Digger. I just ordered my usual espresso. It was correctly pulled ristretto which shows that while they may not think much of women who marry for money, they do know their way around an espresso machine. You do you, Trophy Wives, you do you.
Meanwhile, I reviewed some clothing from Rapha, http://www.mensjournal.com/gear/articles/cycling-style-watch-raphas-new-lines-collection-is-awesome-w486471 and a couple of surf backpacks, http://www.mensjournal.com/gear/articles/surf-pack-showdown-two-essential-packs-to-carry-your-gear-w488249 I am especially stoked on the Da Kine pack, which is super roomy and totes waterproof. Not in the story: I use the laptop sleeves to carry bikinis. I’m sure the average dude would find this advice helpful.
On the way home, I drove through Malibu. The surf was flat, but a horde of people in sun hats were sitting in the line-up, enjoying the day. There are worst ways to waste away an hour or so.
Further up the coast, it turned out that there was more to do than sit around in sun hats. The best days are the days when Surfline gets it wrong. Instead of a crazed swell-seeking horde, a bunch of giddy locals and random passersby romped up and down the point and giggled liked fools. The sun was out and there were waves in an expected place. There’s nothing not to like in a set-up like that. By chance a friend from up north was passing through, and she got to experience a magical day. Good things are even better when there’s someone to share them with.