Almost every summer, I visit my relatives in Spain. My grandparents have a summer home in Chipiona, and it’s a family tradition to spend a few weeks there with my uncles, aunts, and cousins. Recently, my mom makes my cousins and I take a week of sailing lessons every time we come here. This is the third summer where we’ve done this; however, today was my very first time sailing by myself.
I took a Laser-class sailboat on out, and after an hour of sailing with little difficulty, it was time to make my way back to the ramp. If I knew then what would become of me, I would have stayed at sea for the rest of my life. I approached the shore, making good time, and then I removed the keel. At this point, I had no easy way of controlling my trajectory. It was just me and the two meter deep water.
Here is where the intense part begins, and so reader discretion is advised. I glanced into the water to see if it was shallow enough to stand in. I decided it was, so I commenced my jump. My torso was halfway over the side of the boat when I met a snag. You see, any respectable sailboat has more ropes than I know what to do with. Unfortunately, one of these ropes had wrapped around my flip-flop. With one leg in the water and the other tangled up, my ass had no other recourse but to make reconnaissance with the starboard.
I floundered. I struggled. I freed my foot. I had finally gotten where I originally intended to be. And so I pulled my boat to shore. And I dragged it back to the school. And I took it down. But my ass would no longer be the same.
I bruised my ass today. And this is my story.