The answer is no. No one does. Not even one person.
Now the reason I went on a morose shoreline stroll is that I did something bad.
Two days ago I found the most perfect, baseball-sized dead sea urchin on the beach. Not a crack! Already missing most of its spines so I didn’t have to fret about whether it was secretly alive. The day I found it was the second best day of my vacation, and the fifth best day of my whole life. I’ve been searching all week, and finally!!! A whole urchin! Not a dime-sized piece, not a spine, but a whole one! Oh, glory! Oh, rapture!
The problem was that, although I put it in a ziplock, it was stinking to high heaven, so I had to clean it. I used a bleach-to-water ratio that was too high and broke it into about thirty-eight tiny pieces.
This is the fifth worst thing I’ve ever done in my life, and the third worst I’ve ever done on accident. The chances of me finding another one are minuscule, and I am bummed hard. Major bummage. The bummiest of all bummers. Bummer II: The Bummening. Bumbelina. Two bums up.
I am feeling about twelve sad emojis in a row, plus a couple angry emojis, plus like eight emojis of that guy crying two vertical lines worth of tears down his face.
Sadness abounds. I am urchinless once more.