If it's crowded and you can't spot a kook to sit on and snag waves off, you are that kook.
The odds of you flailing while missing the zipper on your suit increase exponentially with the number of people in the vicinity. Hot chicks nearby that you want to bang? The increase is geometric
The louder you claim a wave before taking off, the more likely your leash will catch around your ankles, through two sets of toes, and around at least one testicle.
The longer you wait for a set, the more likely you paddle for the first one out of famishment and then screw yourself even if you make it.
The best way to make a wave come to your peak is to paddle away from it.
Fight a longshore current for 5 minutes and the rabble that was pissing you off is long gone.
Strong dropping tides negate onshore winds but you gotta really want that wave.
If you paddle in a bit to catch inside scraps out of desperation, guaranteed set of the day with at least 10 waves in it will land on your head. Oh and you got no scraps.
When you're ready to get one last wave, don't say it, don't even think it as Mother Ocean is telepathic. You will be skunked for at least 20 minutes. Gets worse as sun is way past setting.
Alluding to above, the bargaining with Mother Ocean starts with "OK one more good one" to "Damn it one more good one ridden competently" to "Ok whatever just let me get a few turns" to "anything is good" to "You fucking whore! Send something!" to "I'm over this sh!t and moving to Idaho with the rest of the doomsday preppers". And sometimes further. But you never paddle in.and you always get that last wave no matter how dark it is.