A guy, 6'2" and pale (pretty much like he's never stepped on a beach before), walks into the beach in a parka and winter boots.
Kidding.
But he was wearing a sweater, a pair of pants, and stepped in with a pair of shoes on his feet. He wasn't there to do anything relaxing. The ocean made him anxious, sand made him irritable, and the Sun reminded him of the Apocalypse. He wasn't there to unwind. He thought the place was secluded enough to have a smoke break or two. The cigarettes weren't even supposed to be anywhere in his pocket. He was entrusted with a promise.
The first thing he does? Break it.

It doesn't take long for Jonathan to notice the other person in the beach. He shuffled over to generously offer him a stick, giving New Yorkers a good name.