1. The Speedo Sporter
There's always that one banana hammock enthusiast who feels the need to let it al(most) hang loose at the beach. If he was the perfectly sculpted Israeli army brat type, that would be one thing, but there are parameters to the "beach balls" cult: older, hairy, white male, over the age of 50, not afraid to be loud and proud in an effort to attract other speedo sporters – aka the ideal Tinder profile.
2. The Day Drinker
Sure, Happy Hour is great in Tel Aviv. "But who decided we could only be happy for an hour? It's the weekend, the sun is shining, and the day is young, why not crack some beers on the beach, right now?" These are the thoughts that run through the Day Drinker's (at-the-time) sober mind, until those first two 10% Slowbrews kick in and the gloves (or in this case flip-flops) come off. As they drunkenly curse the sand, the tourists, and the disappearing garbage bin they swear someone removed as a practical joke just as they felt the vomit coming up, their friends head for sunset patio drinks. Not such a happy hour after all, huh?
3. The Matkot Enthusiast
We get it, you like sports. So why not go for a run or bike ride like the rest of the world? You have a thing for paddles, though? Fine. There are loads of Tennis courts at Park HaYarkon, far, far away from peaceful beachgoers. Unless you're trying to torture those hungover Day Drinkers as they wake from their drunken stupor with an already pounding headache.
4. The Ginger
One would think that ginger-ism, Casper-itus, and all associated symptoms were non-existent in a country that sees the sun more than not. Well, think again. Despite the hot climate, and beautifully tanned majority, there is a subculture of melanin-deprived red heads hiding beneath brimmed hats, long sleeves, and a thick coat of zinc, sun lotion, and SPF sport spray. While you throw back bottles of Goldstar at the Beer Garden, they throw back bottles of SPF-50 at an equally impressive rate.
5. The Perspirer
Everyone has a "perspiry date": that carefully calculated window of opportunity between the time of peak sweatiness and deodorant expiration. There's always that one extra sweaty, extra stanky friend who missed the memo, or maybe they just have a permanently blocked nose. Come on guy, reapply! Sometimes, settling for that nauseating AXE body spray cloud that encapsulates every teenage boy is better than the dreaded B.O.-dorant alternative.
By Jennifer Greenberg, who has a serious sand phobia.
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