You’ve got your nerve, complaining that the Dolly Vardon and Searun Cutts don’t seem as fat this year. Coming back here after spending the winter on the beach in Venezuela, watching the winter ballers getting ready for tryouts in Florida or Arizona while feasting on bonefish.
I spent the whole damn winter, up to my ass in freezing cold brine. Standing stark still for hours in the brackish pools at the mouth of the Dosewallips, the Hamma Hamma, the Duckabush. 8 hours of daylight maybe. Cold, rainy, and nothing but those noisy herring gulls, picking away at the rotting salmon carcasses for company. Gawd, what a fuss they make, and stink to high heaven to boot.
And here you come, with your South American sun tan, and your whiny complaining. That whiny screech of yours might almost be more annoying than those geeky bicyclists: The ones who come clattering up the road, gabbing about coffee and microbrews, with their incredibly annoying bright lights, not to mention the disgusting colors they insist on.
I can’t take them; I wheel and turn just to get out of earshot, those ridiculous blinking red tail lights disappearing into the fog, good ridance. Yes, you might be almost as annoying as them.