No One is Having Sex with Me in This Beach Town
Everyone is Just Sleeping by the Sea
I moved to this beach town in England thinking I’d be like Samantha Jones from Sex and the City.
She moved from New York City to Los Angeles with her boyfriend. Then she ended up dumping her boyfriend and had sex with the constantly-naked-hot dude next-door neighbour, plus many others.
Beach people are blessed by the sunshine and the heat, clothes should become meaningless. Bikinis trigger dirty thoughts, and toned bodies are just ready for action.
But then, why am I’m not getting any? Where is my share of sex?
As I looked back at all the articles I wrote about sex (which are a lot), I felt I have spent more time writing about not getting it than doing it.
This is an article for everyone who has an idealistic misconception about the countryside, the coast or anywhere outside a city. The grass is always greener, the sea is always bluer.
Coastal mentality
There’s something about coastal people that city people can’t deal with: they are really chilled out.
People from Cali are more relaxed than New Yorkers, Brisbane just gives a lazy vibe that Melbourne’s coffee culture can’t compete with, the productivity in Bali is outright zero despite Jakarta’s economy is hustling and bustling.
I live in Brighton & Hove, a seaside city just an hour south of London. It has thriving art, activism and entrepreneur scenes. It has at least 9 co-working spaces in a radius of 5 miles, you’d have thought it’s a town of productivity.
No, people are doing fuck all here.
As long as the sun is out, the beach is full at all times until the early hours. There is never anyone in suits. Cafes are full of people at all times, and no, most people aren’t on their laptops. They are just talking, drinking and smoking weed.
Girls don’t wear bras and I can’t tell whether most men without shoes are homeless or just can’t be bothered with them. They all got tattoos and piercings. Based on everyone’s torso, you’d thought they spend a lot of time in the gym, but they’d say it’s just from playing volleyball by the sea.
Fine, no one’s working, but are they fucking though?
Time has a different meaning on the coast
After spending close to six months in Brighton & Hove, I realise that time has a different meaning in a town as chilled as this.
Nothing is in a rush, we are not living by the diary, there shouldn’t be back-to-back meetings. I broke up with my ex-boyfriend (a classic coastal boy) because he couldn’t deal with my racing speed of speaking…
These people can’t be rushed. They are innately repulsed by time sensitivity.
Whereas in London I never lacked sex, because people were rushing from Tinder to bed. They aimed to tick all the boxes of formalities on their dates so that they can go to bed with you. It’s a complete package, everyone knows what to expect.
Brighton people seem to flirt less hard. They like walking along the promenade talking about everything around the sun, and do nothing. If the time is right and the stars are aligned, then they will fuck you in the moonlight. If you rush them, they will say we aren’t “vibing right”.
No sex for driven people
I met a guy friend in Brighton & Hove, an overly-driven, ex-Londoner, successful entrepreneur. He moved to Brighton as soon as his business kicked off and became financially abundant.
He thought Brighton would be the best place because his business is already scaled, so he can still make money whilst enjoying the sun. He thought he’d be flirting with topless girls and go home with them.
Na-dah.
Poor him, no girls in Brighton wanted to sleep with him. As soon as he bragged a little bit about passive income, praised capitalism and denounced the power of psychedelic drugs, they all walked away. Literally, like a mermaid diving into the sea and disappears.
There are three Cs of coastal people: carefree, chilled, clueless.
I’m at a crossroad
My business is kicking off, I’m working 7 days a week. When I’m not working on my laptop, I’m thinking about my business.
Being an entrepreneur is very intense, and worse if you are brainwashed by London. Sometimes that’s all I can think about, even when I was dragged by my friends to the sea.
There’s no way I will ever reach the level of chill these coastal people do, it’s the same reverse. This reality has made me a little bit sad because, at this rate, I’m not getting laid anytime soon.
Getting laid used to be my ultimate de-stressor. It really takes my mind off work, but no one is fucking me. The speed of chatter on dating apps is slow, probably because most people leave their phones at home when going to the beach.
My successful friend ended up moving back to London, and he is getting laid again. That girl at the printer at his co-working space just screamed horny at him, so they did it three times in the conference call booth.
Or maybe, using the jargon of the coastal people, the stars aren’t aligned for me and I’m not vibing the right energy for sensual sex. If I want to fuck like I’m on duty or to de-stress, I probably should move back to a capital city.
If you are thinking of moving out of the city, for the sake of your libido, think again.
Another article about failed sex from me:
