With January over and done with, our daydreams are finally starting to incorporate summer and beaches. And by we, I mean everyone but me. I’m not going anywhere near a beach. Here’s why.
If the current takes you, you get swept into a river of lost souls.
If you’re farther out than you think you should be, it’s not your mind playing tricks on you.
You’ve been swept into the river of lost souls and you probably won’t make it.
There are monsters just waiting to inflict pain upon you.
Staying on the theme of the sea’s fifty gazillion ways of murdering you. Jellyfish. Are. Satan’s. Minions. So are crabs. So are eels. So are all the terrifying creatures of slimy proportions that live in the depths of the sea and crawl up just to attempt to kill us.
Let’s not even get started on the creatures that await once you venture into the abyssal depths (water deeper than knee high).
Feathered demons try to pick you and your sustenance apart.
All of your food is at risk, which puts your peace and quiet at risk, which basically defeats the purpose of going to the beach.
You have to shield yourself from the fire of a thousand suns to keep your flesh from burning.
Not even SPF 50 can save you forever, it’s just a matter of time before you’re toast, and that means (probably) melanoma — skin cancer.
And did you know that bottle of sunscreen you have sitting around probably has expired any way? They expire after a year or so.
Bonus sunscreen tips: it should be applied at least 30 minutes BEFORE going out in the sun so it can absorb into your skin. Reapply every two hours!
There’s hot, sandy lava trying to creep into every crevice of your life.
Sand is the underworld lava of our above-ground life: it’s burning hot, it covers everything, and it makes our lives more difficult by creeping into everything.
The shower won’t be the end of it. You’ll be digging it out of your possessions and your own person for a lifetime to come, and likely pass it on to your descendants.
You’re forced to look upon all of your earthly, bodily regrets.
Like, all those slovenly trips to the drive-thru? They’re literally right in front of your face and on your abdomen. The beach is just being as naked as humanly acceptable around other people and trying to feel OK about it.
The journey to and from is never-ending.
Much like the underworld itself, the beach is prettttttty difficult to get to — unless you’re a rich beach-dweller, in which case you definitely sold your soul to the devil — and the walk to and from is always hot, miserable, and paved with the realization that you forgot sunscreen.
There’s water everywhere, but not a drop to drink — AKA torture.
You have to bring a huge cooler or forever suffer in dehydrated desperation. Or, at worst, you’ll be harassed by people selling overpriced water all day…and have to give in to them.
It’s just one big toilet and trash can.
Yup. Everyone pees everywhere. Kids poop in the dunes, people leave diapers out, hot trash burns in cans and in the sand all around you, and there aren’t usable, free toilets for miles.
Oh, and people sail expensive boats right in front of you while you suffer. Hell on earth, you guys. Hell. On. Earth.