An Honest Beach Invitation From Your Friend Who Won’t Shut Up About The Beach

I enjoy lugging around a heavy, bulky cooler and a giant, overstuffed tote that is incapable of holding everything.

Do you want to go to the beach? It’s my favorite way to spend a hot, sunny summer day.

I love all the time and effort it takes to prepare for the beach. I always make sure to pack hats, snacks, napkins, water bottles, swimsuits, sunglasses, goggles, face sunscreen, spray sunscreen, mineral sunscreen, kid’s sunscreen, a change of clothes, a change of shoes, a change of underwear, an umbrella, folding chairs, games, towels, and the perfect beach read. I also like to bring some extra sunscreen, just in case. I enjoy lugging around a heavy, bulky cooler and a giant, overstuffed tote that is incapable of holding everything.

Another thing that I love about going to the beach is that it’s free! Well, I guess it’s not entirely free. But why pay for a water park or pool membership when you can visit nature’s swimming pool for only the cost of the parking, beach badge, and ice cream truck treats at a 650% markup? Plus, driving around to find a parking spot only to be forced to park two miles away makes me appreciate all of the earth’s great beauty.

I know, I know, there’s a lot of trash. But listen, there’s nothing like the feeling of finding the perfect spot to relax among miles of mindlessly discarded beer cans. Part of the fun is trying to avoid all the garbage that other beach-goers have left in their wake. It’s actually kind of funny when the hot wind sweeps an empty potato chip bag right into my face. It makes me feel filthy, but in a good, nature-y way. I often make a point to throw out some of the trash, as well, which inspires me to reflect on humanity’s collective responsibility to protect the environment and also if all my shots are up to date. And then I get to reward myself by cooling off in the most frigid water my body has ever encountered.

I say frigid, but that’s not really fair. Sometimes the water is pretty warm, by which I mean 75 degrees Fahrenheit. It’s like nature’s bathwater so long as you’re okay with bathwater being 30 degrees colder than what your body physiologically finds comfortable. But you don’t want it to be too warm anyway, because if it is, chances are the bacteria levels will make it unsafe to swim. Also, is your bath home to all sorts of predatory sea creatures? Or how about the pee of countless strangers? Because if you’re not feeling the seven mile hike to pee in a fly-infested porta-potty, in the ocean you can go to the bathroom right where you’re standing.

Speaking of standing, just wait until you’re in all that amazing sand! Sometimes it’s blisteringly hot and coarse and it feels like you’re skinning the bottom of your feet. Other times it’s rough with pebbles and you’re literally skinning the bottom of your feet. You’ll also find sand in your food, sand in your swimsuit, and sand in the folds of your body you didn’t even know existed. It’s super exfoliating.

Sometimes I think there’s nothing better than the sand stuck to my body, but then I remember it’s going to mix with sunscreen. Here’s the thing about the beach: there is no natural shade. So you have to reapply sunscreen about 300 times every hour. If you need someone to awkwardly rub sun protection on those hard to reach areas, their hands will likely be soothingly sticky thanks to a combination of sweat, salt water, and the residual juices of an overly bruised stone fruit. You’ll probably still get sunburned, by the way, but I enjoy the whole ritual of it.

Don’t worry though! Because, as you might recall, we’ll pack an umbrella for shade. It’s unwieldy and requires the biceps of a body builder to stick it into the ground. But once you muster all your strength and also that of your ancestors to get it to stand up in loose sand, you’re golden. Unless, of course, the wind catches it and the pole impales a fellow beach-goer. But once you set up your towels and folding chairs, you can just relax. Except you can’t if you’re with kids who require your undivided attention. And if you’re not with kids, someone else’s kids will absolutely 100% guaranteed run through your setup.

The worst part of the day will be when we leave the beach, but it has to happen sometime. You’re welcome to try to wash the sand off, but there’s almost always a long line for that rustic makeshift hose that spits out sub-freezing water with such intense force, you’re likely to get bruised. And just know that no matter what you do and no matter how hard you try, you will always track sand into your car, and it will remain in your automobile’s crevices long beyond the inevitable apocalypse. The beach will literally remain a part of you forever, too. When they lower your corpse into the ground, there will still be sand in your crotch. Because while you can leave the beach, the beach will never leave you.

So what do you say? Beach this weekend? It shouldn’t be more than a three hour drive. Don’t forget to pack extra sunscreen!

Emily Kling is a writer based in New York. Her work has appeared in Slackjaw, McSweeney’s, Points in Case, BuzzFeed, Weekly Humorist, The Belladonna, and Little Old Lady Comedy. While Emily is often late, she is rarely fashionable. You can read more of her humor writing here.

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An Honest Beach Invitation From Your Friend Who Won’t Shut Up About The Beach was originally published in Slackjaw on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.