The next morning, I walked out to the boardwalk sipping a triple-shot mocha and hoping that the caffeine would kick in quickly after my restless night. I walked down to the water, stuck my toes in, and watched the surfers zipping along the waves. They’d been out there since dawn, I was sure, just as they were every morning. They had the surf; I had caffeine.
I jumped, splashing my morning fix into the sand. It was Edg, standing right behind me and leaning on his board, obviously delighted that he’d startled the foam out of me.
“No. I like to watch.”
“Don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Yes, I do. About three sips of precious fluids.”
The water rushed in and cleaned up around my feet.
“Sorry about that,” he said, not meaning a word. “Let me make it up to you. You can buy us both another cup.”
I followed him up the sand toward the boardwalk, thinking that–at the very least–it could be fun to spend a little time with a fellow smart-ass.
We walked up the stairs to Canes Rooftop Grill.
Edg leaned his surfboard against the wall and pulled a couple of stools up to the ledge overlooking the ocean.
(From page 13-14 of The Radical Leap)