Sue’s Views: The pleasure in people watching

Human beings are strange creatures.  This is no more evident than when you watch people and their antics. Here on the South Coast, it’s ratcheted up a notch or two as we have the beach and an influx of out of towners, a sure-fire combination for untold mirth.

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There are your elderly Lotharios (some might say well past their sell by date) from Europe who take to our shores to parade their wares.  Slathered in fake tan making them look more like the Oros man, sporting Speedos (the more daring wear white) and paunches they eagerly strut their stuff on the beach, hoping to catch the eye of pretty girls with curves in the right places and swimming costumes that leave little to the imagination.

Then you have the gym jocks with bulked up bodies, tribal tattoos, baggies and skinny little ankles (the beach sort of levels the playing field for many).  At the other end of the scale are the rotund matrons who still insist on wearing a two-piece bathing suit with a flimsy coverall being their go to when covering up.

The best, however, are family units and the dramas that play out. Take the family of five who recently took to the beach in the morning.  Mum, dad and three little boys of various ages.  Mum racing after the little ones onto the beach as they tore straight down to the water’s edge.  Dad dragging a suitcase (I kid you not) and a beach umbrella under one arm onto the sand, anxiously eyeing a spot to flop down.

He trundles along the sand until he finds the ideal spot and plops down.  He then proceeds to put up the umbrella and open the case whose main contents seem to consist of towels and a blow-up canoe and crocodile.

The kids come tearing back to him, pleading for the items to be inflated – which he does (amid much huffing and puffing).

The boys tear back down to the water with the items to join mum who is still there.  Dad smiles and lies back ready for a day of relaxation in the sun. Cue strangled cries and fighting 10 minutes later at the water’s edge from the three boys – two inflatables and three children…what could possibly go wrong?  Mother is at her wit’s end trying to land a well-aimed smack or two at a child or three without being judged by the beach audience who by now have become aware of the drama playing out.

Amid howls of indignation, the boys are hauled by mum (inflatables and all) up the beach to dad who wakes groggily.  Hands on hips, finger wagging she lets him have it and stomps off the beach with the three little ones in tow.

Dad wearily opens the suitcase and begins the laborious process of repacking it – except the canoe and the crocodile won’t deflate properly. 

He leaves the beach an hour after arriving, a worn down figure lugging the suitcase back across the sand with the umbrella under one arm and two sad looking inflatables flapping from under the other.

And that folks was an hours worth of entertainment for the price of a cup of coffee.

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