Signatures later

This holiday season I spent time at the coast with my siblings, more specifically at San Lameer. San Lameer is a golf estate with villas that you can rent, you can also steal them but questions get asked if you go around with a villa under your arm.

The cost of these villas in peak season is absurd. You can compare it to the amount of money that Richard Branson spent on convincing people he is dyslexic. I always found it silly and thought that removing his arm and surgically attaching a blender would be a better for publicity than giving an indefinite excuse for spelling mistakes. Just think if he had a blender for an arm he would be able to perform at parties as a cocktail armtist. That would surely be quite unique. He would also blend in much more easily. He might just then be prone to some dicey decisions.

Although the weather was not ideal for spending time on the beach I did spend enough time there to formulate my feelings into something sensical.

One of the things I hate about beaches is the effort that goes into creating an experience that is remotely enjoyable. I understand the captivation of the sea and the recreational opportunities presented by the huge expanse of water but I am not convinced.

To illustrate this I will now proceed to describe the day of a person, say our friend Colin, and his experience on the beach.

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This morning Colin got up and nearly wet his pants when he saw that it was a sunny day and for the first time this week he could go to the beach. He was in fact so excited that he threw a knife at his neighbor. His neighbor got the point. Colin quickly brushed his teeth and put on his swimming shorts.

Colin applied sun tan lotion to his face and three quarters of his body, as he could not reach the oval shaped spot on his back. People could later spot Colin a mile away.

Colin spent the next fifteen minutes trying to get his shirt on but the sun tan lotion prevented it by making his shirt stick to his body like a Bolivian Stripper to her playlist.

Our friend Colin now gathers his equipment and journeys to the beach. The heat is excruciating and the journey long. He starts hallucinating due to dehydration and shows people he passes his raccoon while shouting “I can do water divination with this”.

Colin finally arrives at the beach and finds his spot for the day. He rewards his endeavors by quickly going for a swim. He nearly drowns when a wave the size of a small industrial revolution hits him in the face making him swallow a large amount of saltwater making it possible for a school of blue fin tune to survive in his bladder for a sustained period of time. (This is not impossible – see Moby Dick)

(Note by author: Moby Dick is a white whale that is shot by a big harpoon. The name of the book could have been Mobile Dick but then the harpoon would have missed and the book would have had a less profitable run)

Colin now decides to tan like the rest of the people around him. He proceeds to lie down face up with his sunglasses and hat strategically placed so that he can look at the girls passing him on the beach. After a while Colin has to turn over due to his water divination device showing fast approaching rain.

Time passes.

Colin decides to return home.

On his way back Colin develops a rash between his legs that hurts so much he starts walking like someone wearing his collection of model trains in his special place.

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Do not misunderstand me, I enjoy going to the coast for the summer holidays. I just think the whole scene got skewed along the way. I blame vanity.

I think money is the root of all evil. Including paying for having your chest hair waxed, which is ok if you are a lady. I once had my chest hair waxed for some reason unbeknownst to me at this very moment. The sensation, I found, was very similar to somebody slapping me on the chest, repeatedly, with what felt like a very hot marshmallow or sardine on a stick. I wasn’t very serious about the whole waxing thing and since realizing my state of baldness I have assumed a mindset best described as confident contempt.

Apart from the chest hair as an example of what is wrong with beaches there are other things as well. I think the ladies should reassess their beach attire and not just some of you, all of you. If you look good in that bikini don’t wear it because all the men on the beach will compete for your attention. They way men typically do this is they either tan, which is uncomfortable or they run around playing rugby or beach bats. All this is based on you wearing a bikini that leaves nothing for the imagination.

I know this sounds a bit daft but the above is true. The day I spent on the beach I fell in love about seven times. Each time it was due to someone wearing a bikini. I then started doing things that should impress the ladies, things like swimming really fast to nowhere. Then running from the sea to my towel, my shoulders dipping a bit more than usual with each step. I then stand looking at the ocean, flexing my pectoral muscles ever so slightly. See all this is so shallow not even an unconscious Kermit could drown in it. Yes. Vanity. It is not just a magazine.

Thing is I might be wrong about this. I think it’s the fact that I am extremely un-tan-able and hairy. I have hair on my arms and chest. I do not have back hair though. But still it seems as though the hair is falling out of my head and growing out of my arms. All this makes me an unlikely beach bod finalist. My talents are more of a mental capacity than a physical. Or so I would hope, as I am only a five out of ten on the scale of attractiveness.

The point is I might be wrong about beaches.