“You were like 25 metres away!!!!!!”
“Howzzzitttt Brah!!!” The hands go up to above the face as the two palms knock against each other.
“All good, brah!!! Good. Good.”
“I saw you in the water!! You were like 25 metres away!!!”
“It was very foggy, hey, but there was also like a good three footer. Stunning day, hey??!!”
“Ja, lekka man. Good. Good.”
More palm punching. Hitting the upper arms now. Wriggling into jeans behind a towel.
“Yesterday was good, hey??!!”
“Jah, I was really, really stoked.” (“Oh, howzitttt babe!!!!!” accompanied by wild waving at surfer walking by in bikini, carrying surfboard under her arm.)
“Jah. Good. Good. All good here.”
This can continue indefinitely with minor alterations in vocab and characters.
To the local writer, Damon Galgut, who hails from Pretoria, (a place I’ve heard of but never visited, and not on my bucket list either), who describes Cape Town as ‘a place lacking in any cultural or intellectual life’, have you visited Surfer’s Corner recently, Damon? It’s high culture, brother. And cool breeze, bru. It’s cooking. And it’s looking crispy.