"You do? Now??"
"No! I just said that so we can take a couple shots before we head down to 6 Man."
"What are we, 14?"
"It's awkward to take shots in front of your parents. I know, I'm a bitch."
And thus started my Saturday morning.
My friend Tina invited me down to join her in Manhattan Beach for its infamous 6 Man Volleyball Tournament.
Simply stated, 6 Man is a huge tournament where teams dress up in costumes. The best way to experience it is through pictures, so if you're really curious... go here.
It's
absolutely
fucking
ridiculous.
The beach is packed shoulder to shoulder. Sponsored tents outline the volleyball courts. Bikini-clad waifs are taking pulls of smuggled vodka by means of a Nalgene while chasing with some knock off-brand energy drink. Muscle heads in tank tops were wheeling giant sub woofers that would eventually blast Will Smith's Miami at any given time.
I know I've used this metaphor in a previous entry, but it's absolutely necessary I use it again: this scene was a cliche' straight out of a teen sex comedy. As Tina and I stepped onto the sand, it took everything in me not to spin around a la' Mary Tyler Moore.
I'm gonna make it after allllll!It's every single guy's dream, right?
Well. Kinda.
I'm not complaining about the eye candy; if there's one thing Manhattan Beach can guarantee it's a plethora of beautiful girls wearing enormous sunglasses. And with a huge event like 6 Man, they instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano. There wasn't a second where I wasn't being shoved and smashed up against some lithe bod where perfect breasts were at my eye level (ahh, that brought me back to my middle school dances).
But after about 10 mins., it got... well... kinda boring. I'm not quite sure how to describe my feeling at the time, but I got... bitter or frustrated or maybe some combination of both? Maybe the vodka wore off, but I don't believe that I am the only single male to have this feeling in a similar circumstance. It's weird, that I had this kind of pissed off feeling coming out of nowhere. It was just TOO much of a good thing with no realistic end in sight.
Alright yeah, this girl's cute. That girl's pretty hot. That cute girl just asked her hot friend if
You can stand on the beach and "check out" these girls for hours, if you really wanted to. But then what? Whatever really ever comes from it? Am I ever going to get a chance to playfully debate which Pixar movie is the best? Or be in a situation in the future where they make me laugh?
Pinwheels are pretty fucking sweet. For about 5 seconds. But then what?
Weeeeeeeeeeee! ... ... Huh.