Their constant smirking should have tipped us off, but we were so damned in love, dazzled by the glare from those latex-smooth exteriors, charmed by those adorably wobbly tail stands at SeaWorld. In fact—we never told anyone this—there was a day once on vacation when we nearly rented a Jet Ski, sans experience, sans even any real desire to Jet Ski, just on the conviction as we gazed across the harbor from our cabana that if we were to choose this day to make our Jet Ski debut, they would choose this day to do that thing they sometimes do, arcing up out of the surf at our side and keeping pace with us, singling us out as among the very crème of enlightened humanity.