If you never watched 90210 or Saved by the Bell in the 90s, those shows used to have different types of episodes during the summer. They involved the characters going to some beach. For example, the entire Saved by the Bell crew got jobs at some beach resort hotel, and several episodes focused on that.
This got me thinking - why not do the same thing with Jerks of the Week? I went on vacation to the Jersey Shore (Ocean City) the week of July 11. On my first night there, I posted the following on Facebook:
My first day down the shore, and I've already found 7 or 8 jerks to write about. This is too easy.
Facebook friends Steven L. and Dan D. replied:
Did you purposely go to the Jersey Shore to find jerks? If so, that's genius and kinda cheating lol.
I agree with Steven. That isn't even shooting fish in a barrel. That's like taking a flamethrower to a bucket of carp.
Well, I came away from the shore with a huge bucket of crap. No, I didn't go down the shore specifically to find jerks - I wanted to relax on the beach, drool over chicks in bikinis and stuff my face with pizza every night - but by the conclusion of my vacation, I found 31 Jerks of the Week.
Rather than posting a 12,000-word Jerks of the Week entry about all 31 of them, I thought it would be cool to split them into four categories: Jerks of the Beach, Jerks of the Boardwalk, Jerks of the Pool, and Jerks of the Hotel/Restaurants.
Let's begin with Jerks of the Beach - that's where I expected to find the most of the fist-pumping a**holes on my trip.
1. Sand Kickers:
After I checked into the hotel, I ventured out to the beach. My sister Jackie and my cousin Megan were already down there for the day, and I quickly found their umbrella.
Jackie and Megan were eager to go into the seaweed-infested ocean - more on that later - but since I just arrived, I was more than content to plop down on the blanket and pass out.
That proved to be pretty difficult. Several minutes after Jackie and Megan left, someone walked too close to my blanket and accidentally (or perhaps purposely) kicked sand into my face. I was fortunate enough to have my eyes closed, but the sand still found its way into my nose and mouth.
I sprung up to yell at the douche bags who were inconsiderate enough to walk so close to me. Once I saw them, however, my anger quelled. They were two really hot chicks. One was a fair-skinned blonde wearing a red tank top and black short shorts. The other was a tan brunette wearing a blue tank top and pink bikini bottoms (remember this for later).
Wow, they are hot. Wait, am I supposed to be angry at them for something? I can't remember, I thought.
Hey, a week ago, I stated that I would forgive Casey Anthony for killing her toddler and date her because she's hot. Well, the same applies to these two chicks. As long as I get some action, I don't care if they kick sand in my face all day. In fact, I invite all hot chicks to kick sand in my face when I'm lying on the beach. Please, hot chicks. I'll even keep my mouth wide open so it'll be more fun for you.
By the way, I can't believe how many people were angry about the Casey Anthony Jerk of the Week entry last week. It's a joke, people. Why would you take what I write on here seriously? Of course I wouldn't date Casey Anthony. I'd only sleep with her.
2. Seagull Kid:
The following day was much more eventful. I paid for an umbrella and chair when I got to the beach around 1. I sat down and closed my eyes. Everything was peaceful until I heard a strange noise coming from behind me.
Startled, I looked behind me. Some 6-year-old fat kid was running around in circles, flapping his arms and doing his best impression of a seagull. This continued for five minutes. He wouldn't shut up. As I learned, when you're on the beach, there's nothing that'll ruin a relaxing day quicker than some fat little turd thinking that he's a seagull.
Eventually I had enough. I slammed my book down on the blanket, turned around and stared menacingly at the kid. His fat grandma, who had her hair dyed jet black, noticed that I was watching her grandson making a fool out of himself.
Fat Grandma: Isn't he adorable?
Me: Adorable? He's fat and annoying, and he's ruining my day at the beach. He's the spawn of Satan, as far as I'm concerned.
Fine. I didn't say that. I just nodded and turned around. Seagull Kid stopped this nonsense minutes later, but the noise he made will continue to haunt my dreams for years.
3. Ocean Wuss:
The Ocean City ocean is disgusting. There are small shell pieces scattered all over the sand, the water is black and cold, and there is seaweed everywhere.
I don't remember it being this bad when I was a kid. But I was disgusted both times when I went into the ocean. It's seriously nothing but giant red and green blobs of seaweed floating around. In fact, I saw one little girl pick up a giant red blob of seaweed and put it on her head as if it were a hat. Her mom noticed this, quickly removed the seaweed from her daughter's head and scolded her. Fun times at Ocean City, N.J!
I went into the ocean about 30 minutes after Seagull Kid stopped squawking. As I walked in, I overheard a manly voice scream the following:
"Come on big wave! Come ooooon biiiiig waaaaavveeee!!!!!!!!!!!!"
I glanced over to see who was saying this, and it was a tall dude in his late teens or early 20s. He was standing about 20 feet from the shoreline, so his knees were barely in the water.
Now, I expected him to continue walking into the ocean, but he just remained in one spot, gleefully jumping up and down and calling for big waves like a stereotypical heterosexually challenged male. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
I'll never understand what that was about. Was he scared to venture out into the ocean? And why would he want big waves if he refused to have the water go above his knees? Did he just want to see the big waves in action, or was he rooting for other people to drown in these big waves?
If it's the latter, then I propose that we toss the annoying Seagull Kid out into the big waves. And his fat grandma too.
4. Teeny Ocean Boppers:
I left Ocean Wuss behind and ventured out deep into the ocean. Unfortunately, there were no hot chicks out here - just some dudes and four 12-year-old girls.
I wouldn't have cared too much about this, but one of the Teeny Ocean Boppers was very annoying. She was a chubby girl, and she constantly yelled stupid things like...
I LOOOOVVEEE THE WAAAATTTEEERRRR!!!!
The chubby girl spazzed out as she screamed this, chaotically splashing the water with her hands in utter excitement. For a second, I thought she was having a seizure.
Jesus. If she's this happy about water, I can't even imagine how she'd react if she were bathing in a pile of hamburgers.
PIGGY BOYS ARE BETTER THAN TIGER BOYS!
Yeah, I have no idea what this means either.
I guess this works the opposite with us men though. This chubby girl may like "piggy boys," but most of us men certainly don't like "piggy girls" - unless you're into getting eaten on your third date. I'm sure the fat women at my gym pool are all eagerly hoping to do this to me one day.
I SEE THE MOON!
Congratulations! You're now the six-billionth person on this planet to see the moon!
As she said this, I actually looked up if I could see the moon myself. I couldn't find it. I looked at the entire sky, and I couldn't spot the moon. Suddenly, this big wave crashed into me. I didn't see it coming because I was too busy looking for this chubby girl's moon. As the salt water penetrated my eyes, I thought about what I'd write for the Jerks of the Week entry, and I came up with the following:
I'd be fine with all of this if a hot girl over the age of 18 tricked me by shouting, "I see the moon!" Otherwise, not cool.
5. Hot Chair Chick:
When I returned from the ocean and wiped all the seaweed off my body, I sat back down. To my delight, I spotted a really hot chick sitting in a chair about 100 feet away from me. She was a tan, bikini-clad brunette with earrings. I was in love.
Hot Chair Chick was actually facing me. I constantly looked over - but not just because she was hot. She really looked familiar. And not in the sense where I'd use that as an excuse to approach her. I honestly thought I knew her from somewhere.
By the way, I didn't learn about the "Do I know you from somewhere?" pseudo pick-up line until I was 23. At Penn State during my sixth year, a girl walked up to me at an apartment party.
Party Girl: Hey, do I know you from somewhere?
Clueless Me: I don't know.
Party Girl: I think I recognize you from somewhere.
Clueless Me: Oh. Do you read the Centre Daily Times? I have a column in there.
Party Girl: I don't think I know you from that.
Clueless Me: Really? Hmm... are you sure? My picture's in the paper next to my column every week.
Party Girl: Ugh. Never mind.
I still didn't get it months later when I was with my friends at a bar called Sharkey's. We were sitting downstairs when this hot blond chick walked up to our table and tried to pull the same tactic.
Bar Girl: Hey, do I know you from somewhere?
Clueless Me: Nah, I don't think so.
After Bar Girl walked away...
Friend: Dude, why did you say that? She was hot.
Clueless Me: What do you mean? I didn't know her.
Friend: She was trying to pick you up. Saying she recognizes you was an excuse for her to approach you.
Clueless Me: Oh... Wait a second.... OHHHHHH!!!!
With this new-found knowledge, did I try to game Hot Chair Chick by telling her that I recognized her from somewhere? I would have considered it, but after the 30th time I leered over at her, she gave me a disgusted look and turned her chair around so that I couldn't stare at her anymore.
Hmm... I guess I don't know Hot Chair Chick after all.
6. Uncle Jesse:
I couldn't stare at Hot Chair Chick anymore, so I read A Game of Thrones instead. My concentration was broken minutes later, however, when the people sitting at the umbrella in front of me started clapping. A woman's voice could be heard shouting, "She went into the ocean yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy!!!"
That's nice. I figured it was some little 3- or 4-year-old girl who went into the ocean for the first time in her life. That was not the case, however. The only person who was wet in that group was some preteen girl who looked like she was embarrassed by her family.
It would get worse for her. A creepy-looking dude with slicked-back hair who resembled Uncle Jesse from Full House started singing, "Sheeee's a woooooomaaaaan!"
That was kind of strange. Are they part of some weird religion or cult where you become an adult by going into the ocean for the first time? Nah. They're probably just weirdoes.
Anyway, Uncle Jesse continued to make things difficult for Virgin Ocean Girl. About a half an hour later, Uncle Jesse told Virgin Ocean Girl that her mom was down by the ocean and wanted to talk to her. Virgin Ocean Girl went away for a few minutes and stormed back to her umbrella with a frustrated look on her face.
Virgin Ocean Girl: You lied to me! My mom didn't call me!
Uncle Jesse: Ha! I tricked you!
Great job, Uncle Jesse. When you go back home, feel free to continue living in your brother's basement and amusing little kids with your strange vocal impressions.
Oh, wait. My bad. That was the other creepy uncle.
7. Sand Hole Man:
Hot Chair Chick was to the right of me. Seagull Kid and his grandma were behind me. Uncle Jesse and Virgin Ocean Girl were in front. The person to my left was someone I'd like to call Sand Hole Man.
At first glance, Sand Hole Man was pretty normal. He was a grown dude in his late 30s, early 40s, with a tattoo of a cross on his arm. He was with his wife and 6-year-old son. Sand Hole Man was digging the sand up with a shovel. I assumed that he was playing with his son until the little boy jumped into the hole. This prompted Sand Hole Man to shout the following:
"Stay outta my sand hole!"
Your sand hole? You mean you're just doing this for yourself and not your kid?
Sand Hole Man's son didn't listen to his father; he disobediently jumped into the sand hole a few minutes later.
Sand Hole Man: What did I say about going in the damn sand hole!?
Wife: Calm down, dear.
Sand Hole Man: Calm down!? I've been diggin' my sand hole for hours, and he's gone' ruin it!
Oh noez, not your precious sand hole. What a douche. Who the hell cares about some stupid sand hole?
What Sand Hole Man did next was unbelievable. His son started playing with a fairly big yellow toy truck. He started moving the toy truck close to the sand hole.
"BACK UP!" Sand Hole Man yelled.
The boy didn't listen. He drove the toy truck into the sand hole. At that point, Sand Hole Man lost it. He ran to his son, picked him up and placed him on his beach towel. He then grabbed his shovel and started bashing his kid's toy truck.
"Look what you made me do! It's broken now!"
The kid started crying as he watched his dad shatter his precious toy truck into pieces. Sand Hole Man went back to his precious sand hole, and his son didn't bother him again for the rest of the afternoon. Mission accomplished. I guess.
8. Fat Mom:
Seagull Kid and his grandma must have left the beach when I was in the ocean. There was no one behind me for a while. That changed when this whale of a woman and her two little children (about 4 years old) arrived.
The two kids (one boy, one girl) were even more enamored by the seagulls than Seagull Kid was. They ran toward a flock of seagulls. The seagulls scattered, and as they flew away, the two kids gleefully ran around in a circle, raised their hands in the air and beamed at the seagulls. They were so unbelievably happy, but that quickly changed when their fat mother angrily bellowed the following at them:
"GOD HELP ME IF ONE OF THESE SEAGULLS POOPS OR PEES ON ME, I WILL BEAT YOU!"
The two kids stopped running around. The girl started crying. The boy slumped down on the beach towel, looking defeated. Definitely a Mother of the Year candidate.
To be honest though, I'm not completely sure that she said "GOD HELP ME IF ONE OF THESE SEAGULLS POOPS OR PEES ON ME, I WILL BEAT YOU!" Since she's a 500-pound monstrosity, it would make more sense if she said "I WILL EAT YOU" instead of "I WILL BEAT YOU."
And why not? She's already crushing the souls of her two kids. While she's at it, why not crush their bones, muscles and flesh in her mouth?
9. Sand Kicker:
Whenever I see a Jerk of the Week candidate, I type it into my phone as a reminder and save it as a draft. That's precisely what I was doing regarding Fat Mom when someone suddenly kicked sand into my face again.
Could it be? I quickly wiped the sand out of my eyes and looked up. It was the same girl as the day before - the tan brunette - and she was wearing exactly what she had on the first time I saw her - the same blue tank top and pink bikini bottoms.
Her friend wasn't with her this time, but that was OK. I was convinced that the brunette Sand Kicker was my soulmate. I mean, out of the tens of thousands of people vacationing at Ocean City, N.J. on the week of July 11, what are the odds that the same hot girl would kick sand into my face two days in a row?
I just had to talk to her.
Me: Hey, did you know that you just kicked sand into my face while walking by me for the second day in a row?
Sand Kicker: Really?
Me: Yeah. What's up with that?
Sand Kicker: Haha, I don't know. I'm sorry.
Me: It's all right. I figure it must be destiny or something. Out of all the people down here, what are the odds that the same person would kick sand into my face two days in a row?
Sand Kicker: Yeah. That's definitely a crazy coincidence.
Me: So, do you kick sand into other people's faces, or just mine?
Sand Kicker: Hahaha, you're funny. Do you have a hotel room?
Me: Why, yes I do.
Sand Kicker: That's cool. I'd like to check it out.
Me: Sure. Only if I get to buy a couple of cheeseburgers and eat them while we make out and have sex.
Sand Kicker: That sounds awesome. Buy me some cheeseburgers too?
OK, OK, fine. This never happened. The hot brunette did kick sand into my face two days in a row, but by the time I realized what happened the second time, she was already too far away.
It sucks. I wish I would have gotten the chance to talk to her. She definitely could have been my soulmate, and we could have devoured lots of cheeseburgers together in my hotel room.