I was a pretty quiet kid throughout most of my childhood. I was bullied sometimes, but most of the time, people just kinda left me alone (I was lucky, as I learned, since having made friends with kindred spirits in college, I learned my middle/high school experience was somewhat unique in this regard).

I grew up in a town away from the coast. When I was fifteen, the summer before my sophomore year of high school, my best friend and I went to the beach in the neighboring town together. Her eighteen-year-old brother was going with a few of his friends, and my friend and I were just tagging along. My best friend has a similar temperament to mine. It was exciting for us, however, since it was our first time wearing a two-piece bathing suit. We felt like proper adults.

My friend and I got there and went down to hang out in the water for a bit. We had been playing, not far from shore, when something knocked me over. My prescription sunglasses flew off. I can barely see anything without my glasses, so this was a big deal. My friend tried searching for them as I started to panic, and eventually she had to lock arms with me and start guiding me back towards the shore so that we could go to the towel/umbrella area guarded by two of my brother’s friends, where I had my normal glasses waiting for me.

As we were emerging from the water, a guy walked over to us. He was older – maybe eighteen, nineteen, twenty? – at any rate, older than my friend’s brother. He started talking to us, but me in particular. He rapidly switched back and forth from complimenting me to insulting me, and so covered a wide variety of topics – how the bathing suit complimented the shape of my body, the size of my breasts, and how pretty my eyes are, and how pale my skin is were just a few of the topics he covered. My friend and I were immensely uncomfortable, and we both told him to stop a few times, but being that we were very anxious people (and I was still nervous because I wasn’t able to see), this was very difficult for us, not that it would have been an easy situation for most teenage girls.

Eventually, some guy showed up, probably his friend, and said something like “hey dude, Schmidty wants to talk to you about the party tonight” or something else really fratty, I don’t quite remember. As the guy walked away, I heard him ask his creepy friend, “Don’t you think those chicks were a bit young for you?”

Eventually, we made it back to the towel/umbrella area. My friend and I relieved her brother’s friends, who went to join up with her brother and his other friends. My friend and I, I with my regular glasses, were finally able to see again, and we were lying on the towels under the umbrella just reading books.

Then, the creepy guy returned. He started his mixture of insults and compliments directed at me, my body, and my appearance. My friend and I were really scared. Her brother’s friends’ stuff was all with us, so we couldn’t easily pack up and move. We kept telling him to leave, but clearly it wasn’t working. Then a girl ran into the scene, nearly knocking me over. My friend and I recognized her as a popular girl at school, a cheerleader. I don’t think she’d ever interacted with either of us at school, despite us all knowing each other since the age of 6.

The cheerleader got between the creep and my friend and me, and she started berating him. She switched between shouting at him and insulting him in a way which I can only describe as a stereotypical cheerleader cattiness. He kept up his suave demeanor until it became clear that other people were listening to the cheerleader berate him, and especially when it became clear that other people knew he was hitting on underage girls. Obviously, you can’t always tell someone’s age from their appearance – I’m a prime example, even now, I’m in my twenties, people think I’m in middle school sometimes, but I was underage, and he clearly was not. He scowled and left, tail between his legs.

The cheerleader promptly sat down in a folding chair, crossed her legs, and stared after him until he was truly out of sight, then asked if we were alone here. Upon hearing our situation, she told us that she was staying with us until my friend’s brother and party returned. We asked about her friends, but she waved at a group of girls in bikinis, probably a furlong away, who waved back. She said they knew she had come to help us so she was going to stay as long as necessary.

And we got to talking. And we talked for nearly an hour until my friend’s brother and party returned.

We had very little in common; my friend and I had exclusively nerdy and/or old woman taste in media and everything. Also, this girl’s family was definitely in a much higher tax bracket than either of ours. But still, we walked away from that conversation having exchanged numbers, with promises of meeting up again. And we did. We never became super close friends, but the cheerleader is one of a handful of people from high school that my best friend and I are still in contact with.

I work at a small beachfront shack that rents umbrellas, chairs, boogie boards, etc. It’s mid-July, sweltering, and we’ve been swamped all morning.

Customer: “Your beach is way too crowded. I need a private spot.”

Me: “Well, it’s a public beach, but we can set up your umbrella and chairs anywhere there’s room.”

Customer: “I don’t want anyone within twenty feet of me. I’m not paying to be stared at.”

Me: “You’re actually paying for two chairs and some shade.”

Customer *Pointing.* “What about there?”

Me: “You can see the people there as well as I can, ma’am. It’s already taken.”

Customer *Huffing.* “Well, can’t you move those people? I just want some space to myself!”

Me: *Gesturing toward the water.* “May I suggest the ocean? Plenty of room, but the dolphins can be judgy.”

It is late afternoon in a small convenience store/tourist shop near a beach. We have just closed when a woman runs in just before I can lock the door.

Me: “Ma’am, are you able to make a purchase right this instant, as the store just closed?”

Customer: “But it’s only five?”

Me: “Yes, the store closes at five.”

Customer: “I mean, yeah, I saw that on the door, but I thought it couldn’t be serious.”

She starts to casually browse the beach hats.

Me: “Ma’am? If you’re not able to make a purchase in the next sixty seconds, you’ll need to leave.”

Customer: “Oh, it’s okay. I’m from Manhattan.”

She says the word ‘Manhattan’ with extra emphasis, as if I’m supposed to be wowed by this.

Me: “Everyone’s from somewhere, ma’am. Now, please leave.”

Customer: “Is there a manager? I feel like you don’t understand customer service.”

Me: “Customer service ended at five. After five, you get the potential to star in the local paper’s headline tomorrow morning, reading ‘arrogant Manhattanite gets arrested for trespassing in local store’.”

Customer: *Tossing the hat she was looking at away in a random direction.* “Whatever, your hats are all ugly anyway.”

She was back the next day during opening hours to actually buy a hat! She was denied a sale, with us saying we couldn’t in good conscience sell such an ugly hat to someone from ‘MANHATTAN’ in increasingly mocking tones…

I work at a hotel’s private beach, managing the water entertainment. A couple are signed up for some jet skis.

Guest: “Can I bring my baby on the jet ski?”

Who asks that?!

Me: “No. Anyone under eighteen needs to be supervised by an adult and the youngest we allow is fourteen.”

Guest: “But my baby is twenty!”

Me: “Oh, then yes.”

Guest: “Why did you tell me no?”

Me: “When you said baby I assumed you mean… well, a baby. An infant.”

Guest: *In sickly sweet ‘mommy’ voice.* “But he’ll always be my wittle baybeeeeeh!”

Me: “I see. Where is he?”

Guest: “I don’t know! I told him we’d be here but he’s spent most of the week doing his own thing! It’s almost like he’s avoiding me!”

Gee, I wonder why?

A beachgoing couple approaches my lifeguard hut. One of them speaks to me, sounding concerned.

Beachgoer: “I think some pranksters have put up some fake signs along the beach.”

Me: “What signs are those? What do they say?”

Beachgoer: “Honestly, it’s crazy to even say out loud, but something about sharks being in the waters.”

Me: “Those are real signs. We put signs out on the beach to indicate that several sharks have been spotted in the area and swimmers are to be vigilant.”

Beachgoer: “…seriously?”

Me: “Seriously. Florida has a lot of sharks, so please be vigilant when in the water. You should be fine, but it doesn’t hurt to—”

Beachgoer: “Sharks are extinct! Like dinosaurs!”

Me: “Uh… that is definitely not the case. Sharks are very much not extinct, and are common in these waters.”

Beachgoer: “Is this a joke? Sharks died out because the asteroid hit the water all those years ago! I went to a museum and saw a shark skeleton and everything!”

Me: “I can totally believe that you saw a skeleton in a museum, but sharks are still very much a thing.”

Beachgoer: “What complete horse s***. I bet you watched Jaws and thought it was real too?”

Me: “That movie is fiction, but the Great White is a real shark. The movie might have used a larger-than-average example of the species but it’s a real living shark.”

Beachgoer: “You have no business being a lifeguard and saving lives if you don’t know basic information about the ocean!”

The beachgoer starts walking away, complaining to their partner:

Beachgoer: “Ridiculous! What’s he going to say next, that jellyfish are real too?”