Jellyfish
“Are there jellyfish?” I asked the instructor today. My aged and aching muscles aside, I was afraid. Afraid that I still wasn’t going to be able to stand and I’m going to have to try to save myself from further humiliation and perhaps accept myself as being INCAPABLE OF LEARNING TO WAKEBOARD. How depressing.
“No, don’t have lah.”
“But my friend says it’s jellyfish season.”
“Yeah, but the end [of the season] already, maybe one or two. At most.”
“So I’ll have to be very suay, to get stung by one.” I have never been stung by a jellyfish, and quite honestly would prefer to stay that way.
My friend adds helpfully, “If you get stung, I will buy 4D.”
===
Two hours later, I emerge victorious and can now safely say I know how to stand on a wakeboard. (Actual wakeboarding, erm, I’ll save for my next lesson. But my ego is hugely relieved to have survived this last trip.)
Over lunch, I happily tell my friends, “And there was no jellyfish!”
The two girls took a quick look at each other and burst into giggles.
“Actually the instructor told us, while you were in the water, ‘Eee, there’re a couple of jellyfish near her. Better tow her away.’”
“WHAT!!!” No wonder there were a couple of times when I had to wonder why the boat was moving too slowly to pull me up, but still clearly tugging me along in the water.
For someone like me, who likes to throw her arms out while afloat in the sea (y’know, to enjoy the expanse of the waters), if I had chosen to flail at the inopportune moment, I might have been stung, and my friend would buy and potentially strike 4D.
I love this instructor I got today. He’s the best I’ve had so far. But. Still. His deception will not go forgotten. Pfft.