How not to go to the beach.

So, now I’m back and can FINALLY tell you all about how I almost got eaten by a shark in my mind.

First of all, it’s important to note that, as an adult, I have spent zero time in the actual ocean. Like, that’s not an exaggeration and I’m pretty sure I’ve never even put a toe in it. So when CB and his Cousin Matt decided it’d be “really fun” for me to join them in the COMPLETELY VIOLENT SEA WATER, I said “No thank you.”

But then I decided that I needed to man up and do it already, and if this is how I was meant to die, so be it.

So I slowly made my way into the deep, treacherous waters, trying to avoid the giant waves that kept crashing towards the shore.

Me: “Um, this is unfun.”
CB: “What? This is awesome! Don’t fight the waves, go under them.”
Me: “Yeah, that’s a negative. I’m not going under the water.”
CB: “Beck, trust me, it’s so much easier to swim under the waves and get beyond them.”
Me: “I’m sorry, but I have no desire to ‘get beyond’ the waves into the even deeper ocean waters!”
CB: “It’s not even up to your waist!”
Me: “It sometimes is AND your waist is higher than mine because you’re taller, so what feels shallow to you is, like, danger-zone for me.”
CB: “I promise I won’t let you drown.”
Me: “Or get attacked by sharks.”
CB: “Or attacked by sharks.”

Then, a giant, vicious wave came towards us and CB yelled “go under!” Which is when my heart stopped, I held my nose, and I went under the wave to meet my maker.  

Shockingly, I resurfaced a few seconds later to laughter.

Cousin Matt: “Did you just hold your nose?”
Me: “Yeah, why? I have to hold my nose when I go under the water.”
CM: “You can’t just not breathe for three seconds?”
Me: “Um, no, and no judgment! I don’t want to die!”
CM: “This is the best show ever.”
Me: “I hate you.”

And then I spent the next 30 minutes or so diving underneath death-waves, holding my nose, gasping for air, and telling CB that I was waiting for the fun to start. Though, to be fair, I did end up having some fun once I got the hang of always feeling like I was about to take my last breathe. Plus, no sea urchins got me, so I consider that a win.

However, the fun didn’t end there. Because the next day we headed down to the beach to get some sun and relaxation, while also taking proper precautions against cancerous sunrays (the beach is really fun, you guys!)

So, using proper beach etiquette, I walked behind the row of chairs to spray on the SPF and stepped on something sharp. Luckily, since I was on sand, I quickly deduced that it was unlikely to be a shark tooth coming through the ground and, instead, was a piece of glass or sharp seashell or something. But whatever, no biggie, I’m a champ.

Until 20 seconds later when I tried to walk on said toe and winced in pain, looked down at my foot, a tiny bit of blood, and a big piece of something sticking out of my big toe.

Of course, since I was with girls who jump into action on a moment’s notice, they immediately waved down the beach patrol guy in a not-at-all embarrassing fashion. I mean, clearly this was likely the biggest emergency he’d seen all summer and they’d probably have to amputate.

So Bryan, the cute-but-too-young Beach Patrol guy, came sprinting over with his medic tool kit thing. (also, I’m calling him Bryan with a “y” because he seemed like a Bryan with a “y” kind of Bryan.)

Me: “Hey there, I’m a good time.”
Bryan, laughing nervously: “What happened?”
Me: “I think I stepped on glass?”
Bryan, looking at my foot: “Yeah, something’s in there, but someone else will have to pull it out because I’m not legally allowed to do that.”
Me: “Because I might have HIV?”
Bryan, laughing nervously: “Um, no…I just can’t, so someone else has to do it and then I can clean it up.”
Me: “Because I don’t have HIV, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Bryan, wishing he wasn’t on duty: “Uh….no…I wasn’t worried….plus, I have gloves.”
Me: “Oh! Then I do have HIV.”

Silence.

Me: “Just kidding. I’m sorry, I joke around when I’m injured. Even though joking about HIV is probably weird."

And just then, like we were in some sort of awesome Nora Ephron-type movie, CB came running down the hill from the house with Neosporin and tweezers. In slow motion in my mind.  

Cousin Nikki: “Look! It’s your Prince Charming!”
Me: “I always assumed my Prince Charming would show up with Neosporin. It just makes sense.”

And then, ever-so-gently, CB proceeded to pull what he thought was glass – but was really just my toe-skin sticking out – really hard until I was like “I think that’s attached!”

Also, do you think maybe the medic should have known the difference between skin and glass? I’m just saying. If you’re given the responsibility of surgical gloves and a Beach Jeep, you should be able to differentiate the two.

Notice that Bryan removed his
gloves in a heroic leap of
faith. 

Anyway, turns out it was a sharp shell or glass and about a millimeter in size or something, but as Bryan said “You were in critical condition when I got here, but now I think you’ll live.” Which made the fact that about 7 people crowded around me to stare at my big toe - and there was, like, no blood or amputation -  a complete Beach Fail.

However, it was a Beach Win overall as I (a) got a tan and (b) had a real-life Baywatch incident happen without having to die in the end. Thanks, Jersey Shore!   

Happy Thursday, everyone!