I stopped by a local surf shop when a local author was holding a book signing. I bought a copy of his new work, got it signed, and then milled around for a bit. A man dressed in nearly the same outfit as me approached me. "Excuse me, I'm doing a story on this event and I wanted to talk to a non-surfer about why they're here. Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions?" Now, you couldn't call what I do surfing. It's more in line with paddling around in the waves and getting hammered into the ground, and I only do it about once every two years, so, no, I'm not a surfer. I answered his questions, but found myself wondering just what it was about my appearance and disposition that gave me away as the only non-surfer in the room. There must be some secret code I don't know about.
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