Why I DESPISE the Beach

So, many people really love the beach.
I, for one, absolutely DO NOT.
The beach is a menace.

Now, don't get me wrong- the beach can quite often be fun-
in the winter and off-season, in the middle of the night,
when no one's there but yourself and maybe a few friends.

Anytime else, and the beach is pure hell.

I'm always happy at first-
ooh, I'll get a day to relax and enjoy myself,
here I come beach!
So, I gather my stuff, get in the car...

And then it takes a turn for the worst.

Of course, I'm not the only person who thought of heading to the beach.
Tens of thousands of other people are heading for the same place I am.
Which brings traffic into the issue,
and don't even mention parking.
Seven blocks away, and there's finally an open space.
So much for relaxing; now I have to hike.

Plus, of course, it's not just the locals like me who are there.
We locals always forget about the tourists.
For every one local, there's about twenty tourists.
They swarm us, tumble over us with their fancy
beach blankets, beach shoes, beach everything,
all of which was, of course,
purchased at that overpriced tourist shop down the road.
Once I've been trampled by them, I finally get a chance to stake out my spot.

If I get there early enough, sometimes I get a nicer spot closer to the water.
If not, I get the junky spot full of trash behind the life guard.
Either way, it doesn't really matter.

As soon as I get my stuff down,
lay out my towel,
and lie down,
I am again tampled and surrounded by people.
People who have no concept of personal space.
People who think their rampage is more important
than my precious camera, my chair, and even me.
They trample my blanket, sometimes even my hand,
and do they say sorry?
Nope, not at all!
Why would they do that?

After a while of enduring that, I decide to go into the water.
I have fun for a bit, riding the waves...
avoiding people, trying to forget my problems...
trying to drown out the noise...
when I see a diaper floating next to me.
Well, that's it for the water!

So, I proceed back to my spot-
of which is almost covered by other people's towels and stuff by now-
and pick up my book to read it.
That's when the sun decides to play with me.
The wind, too.
The clouds are down, shielding the brightest sun rays. Cool.
The breeze is nice; maybe I'll enjoy this yet.
Hmmm... no, it won't let me do that, will it?
The sun pops out again!
Brightness floods my eyes,
giving me a temporary headache.
But they my eyes adjust,
and all is fine again.
Oh, wait- sun's gonna go behind a cloud again.
Eyes, time to readjust!
And it keeps that up.
The wind decides to play around, too.
It picks up, blowing my book to another page.
oh, crap- it's blowing my bookmark away!
I rush to retrieve it,
and by then the wind's completely blown my place away.
So, I gotta search for the page.

Once I'm sick of that game, it's time to relax again on my towel.
Yeah, right.
The people aren't running past me anymore,
since everyone's found their place,
but now they're all talking.
The guy behind me is screaming on his cell phone.
The girls ten people over are singing to some music- badly.
Some people over yonder are having a loud party,
complete with boom box.
Really big boom box with lots of music-blasting power.
And the seagulls are skwaking,
eagerly munching on the chips the stupid tourists throw at them,
despite the signs that say "no feeding the birds".
Plus, that couple in front of me is practically having sex,
not to mention their cigarette smoke is making me cough.

Okay, time to go home, finally.
Hm, Looks like I got a nice tan, at least.
Or not.
Once I get home,
I discovered the sun raped me again,
despite all the sunblock I thought I rubbed all over my skin.
But no, it targeted my stomach this time,
Which I failed to put enough sunblock on,
since the sun never burnt me there before.
Oh, but even the parts that aren't burned look ugly.
The sun tickled my skin, it seems,
because the tan is in obnoxious patterns,
of which I have no idea got there.
Okay, one's from my bracelet, but the rest?
Maybe marks of when those stupid tourists tossed their trash way,
irregardless of who was in its path- which was me.

So, now I'm lying on the couch,
tired, upset, irritated, annoyed, sick, burning,
holding an ice pack to my skin.
A nice, relaxing day?
Yeah right!

And no, rest of the USA,
NJ is not consisting of Guidos.
Those people who you idolize from that "Jersey Shore" show?
They're some of the tourists we hate.
Bennys, we call them.
Brooklyn, Elizabeth, Newark, New York.
People from those places,
Who flock down every summer to ruin our lives.

That is why I hate going to the beach,
even though I live a quick drive away.