1 Friend in Common

"Candy!" Melinda screams paddling out.

I could hear Melinda screaming because I was in front of Candy, as in, we were riding the same wave.

In surfing, this is bad! Surfers don't like to share. Honestly, I am not even sure why everyone thinks surfers are so cool? Trust me, we aren't, and for anyone thinking of starting, don't, because surfers are mean. (Although surfers do like to balance out the meaness with a civilian ocean rescue, every now and then.)

When people ask, "Where do you surf?" my smart aleck response is, "in the ocean."

I am not trying to be feisty; I am just trying to keep my spot a secret. Surfers don't like to tell anyone where they surf because other people might start showing up at their beach.

"You just dropped in on Candy," Melinda says as if I were unaware of my actions.

"I told her I was going," I say in my defense. "Besides, she missed two waves and it was my turn." And I was being nice because every surfer knows missing one wave, means the following wave belongs to the next surfer in line.

Then the wheels in my mind started spinning. Candy and Melinda know each other?

"Do y'all know each other from the Witness Protection Program, um, I mean the Jehovah's Witness thing?"

"Yeah, we do," answers Melinda. "We go way back. We used to hang out and go snowboarding together, but we lost touch over the years."

I know both of them and I didn't know they were friends. As Facebook says, we have, "1 friend in common."

I was feeling good. I was, at least, partly responsible for their reunion because Melinda and I were having a surfing playdate (Yes, adults can have playdates, too). Plus, while they were busy catching up, I was busy catching waves.