Yesterday, my office had an outing. Not to Main Event where I could play video games in peace, but rather to Volente Beach. Not bad, really. My friend and fellow Analyst Lupita invited me to pilot a jetski she had rented at a nearby marina; after a short hike and a brief ordeal with dogs that sounded much larger thay they appeared to be, I was briefed on how to operate the tiny vessel. Soon we were off and skipping across the waves. I turned past Starnes Island and out into the lake. It was about then that the waves grew larger, and I thought about heading back closer to the marina. There was another hazard, though: another jetskier approaching. Lupita urged me to avoid him, which I did. Then, she told me to go meet him. Of course, all this time, I couldn't see him well, as I was looking forward. I cut the engine, and the fellow motored closer. It was the guy from the marina! He told us he needed to put a plug back in the jetski, as he had forgotten before we left. A touch scary, that. He dove in and fixed us up, and then we were on our way, up another arm of the lake. Soon, though, the white-knuckle grip and wave action took its toll on me, and after a brief pause, I talked Lupita into heading back early. She found another sucke...uh, passenger, and went back out for another hour. I took a nap on the beach.