I’m in the minority here, but I can’t really stand the beach. I don’t care for the lack of activities or the fact that I might not come back* whenever I go for a dip. I hate the drive down the shore and the parking. I don’t really have what you’d call a beach body and I’m not a particularly tan fellow.
It’s not my scene, as you can see.
But, above all these things, what I can’t stand most is the sand. No matter how little time you spend, it seems to always get in every single crevice, orifice and wrinkle on your person. It’s infuriating. You’ll be scratching your head three days later and out come a few grains.
I’m talking about that moment when you are able to finally get (most) of that sand off you. It’s finally not chaffing, not riding up, not itching, not invading every inch of your personal space.
If you were smart enough to not go in the water, all it takes is a really good brush-down with your towel and you’re home free.
Not to mention, has your skin every felt smoother than it does in that immediate aftermath of sand-removal?
Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Thinking you’ve gotten rid of all grains, only to sit in your car and realize your ass is still soaked.
*Or get bit by a jelly fish, step on something sharp or simply deal with how incredibly fucking cold the water always seems to be. Even when people say “It’s not that bad!”, it is. It always is that bad.
scott spinelli 
I’m with you on this one!