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Every year, the law firm I work for takes us on a day trip.

It’s called “Spring Fling.”

Last year we went on a boat ride through the Palm Beach intracoastal, drank wine on deck, and had lunch.

This year we went kayaking on the Jupiter inlet, drank mojitos on shore, and had lunch.

Do you notice a theme?

Since I’m no expert kayaker, I decided to ride in a two person kayak with my friend, Joanna. I don’t have the best luck with kayaks. The first time I went kayaking, I was 10 and got stuck in a clump of reeds for 45 minutes. The second time I went kayaking, I was 20 and I got stuck in the Palm Beach intracoastal because I was too tired to paddle against the current. The third time I went kayaking, I was 20 and six months and crashed into a tree which unleashed a cacophony of spiders into my kayak. The fourth time I went kayaking, I was 21 and crashed into another tree.

Do you notice a theme?

Joanna doesn’t have much more kayaking experience, but she has more common sense and better luck than me, so I figured with her at the helm I’d be ok.

You may be wondering why I would make the claim that Joanna had better luck. I can easily back up my former statement with another statement: we saw dolphins.

Not only did we see the dolphins, they swam alongside us.

Let’s do a quick comparison, shall we?

Gyasi + kayaking = mass destruction and vicious spider bites.

Gyasi + kayaking + Joanna = dolphins.

And that’s just my first piece of evidence. To further support my case I offer into evidence the second part of this tale.

When we were approaching the deck, we waved to one of the attendants to help us dock the kayak. He was busy, so he called over another attendant. In order for me to properly articulate what I felt when I saw attendant numero dos, you will have to play the song “Wild Thing” in your head…or pull it up on your Ipod.

I’ll wait.



Ready?

With that song playing in my head, I saw a 6 foot, dark-haired, perfectly tanned, and tattooed Adonis walking towards my kayak.

I nearly dropped my paddle in the ocean.

He grabbed our kayak with one hand and pulled us to the deck.

“You can hop out now,” he said, in a very husky and masculine voice.

Joanna proceeded to do just that; she hopped out of the kayak. It was a very light and spritely hop. She didn’t wobble or try to get her balance before she got out. Her hop was very neat and put together.

Then it was my turn.

I braced my arms on the edges of the kayak to try to stand up.

I realized that I could not.

I tried to find my center of gravity.

I realized that I could not.

I tried to hold onto the deck for support.

I realized that I could not.

“Um…Joanna, could you lend me a hand?” I said.

“Oh sure.”

I tried to use Joanna’s hand to pull myself out of the kayak.

I realized that I could not.

I tried to quell the shame that was rising up in my throat.

I realized that I could not.

I tried to think of another option to lift myself out of the kayak.

I realized that I could not.

So I rolled onto the deck.
In front of God, Joanna, and the Adonis, I put my butt on the soaking wet deck, and then proceeded to roll the rest of my hulking mass onto it.

And I definitely grunted as I did it.

Shall we compare again?

Joanna: kept her cool and looked like a Disney princess as she quickly hopped out of a kayak.

Gyasi: lost her fakaka and looked like a manatee as she rolled out of a kayak.

Who do you think has better luck?

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