how the surfer in you knows he’s dying at the office
Signs. You have to look for the signs, and they’re everywhere
Look at your hands, lay them flat on the keyboard now and see what you got. This is not hard to do.
Any more than one ring and you’ve gone socially suspect, only a wedding band passes this test. So not a good start. The backs of the hands are no longer brown either are they? .. nosir, they look like they belong to a schoolmaster. A little unused and scholarly. Pale fidgety hands that pluck at schoolboys’ sleeves. Remember him? Well you’ve got them.
Manicured nails are terminal, even the one.
No golden hair on brown arms any more is there, and dusty smudges on the elbows. And the smudges betray other insidious conditions. Some blokes smudge there because they work with their sleeves rolled up, others because they work in short-sleeved shirts. Both bad. Surfers don’t roll a sleeve up that far, and they don’t wear short-sleeved business shirts either. Surfers wear old shirts with frayed cuffs and missing buttons. Billabong never got that.
Can’t see ’em can you because you’ve got shoes on. And shoes aren’t old sandals, and surfers wear old sandals to work. If somebody says no old sandals to working surfers then surfers walk.
Here’s a test to see if there is any of the real surfer left in you right now. Take off your shoes and socks and stand up. Look down at your feet – as white as death aren’t they. How many more signs do you want bro?
I should charge for this.
Try the no-hair shin test. Look for skin like polished ivory down there, where everything furry has been rubbed away – this is a sign that the poison is working upwards from the feet as well as all over the hands and elbows. Plus there’s a smooth little bald patch back of the calf. This shit is like measles.
So put the board away son; golf awaits you – and if you’ve really got a terminal case – try doubles tennis.