Day 1.
We arrive at 11 p.m. local time, are in our hotel by 11:45, and at the bar by 11:48.
It portents of things to come.
We got on the plane in Richmond, amidst a sea of chinese people, then stepped off the plane in Honolulu, amidst a sea of japanese people. The only difference was it was hot, and we were still a lil light-headed after having the flight attendant buy us shots the entire trip. (We spent the six hour-flight watching Russell Peters... "Somebody gonna get a-hurt real bad... ")
Anyways, back to Hawaii.
Our first night in town, we learned that what we consider a single and double over here, is nothing like what they pour over there. I swear I could have lit my drink on fire it was so strong. The first bar we hit was
Moose's. I highly recommend it.
After a brief night of boozing and macking, we retired to the hotel. But not before getting a late-night hot dog. The price for two dogs and two waters? Sixteen dollars.
Welcome to Hawaii.
howli
Day 2.
Up, at the crack of 11, hit the gym, grab some eats, and down to the beach. We stake out a spot in front of the Royal Hawaiian, where all the rich women are. The day is passed flexing and tanning.
Afterwards, we hit
Duke's Canoe Club for dinner, and to get some booze to dull the pain of our sunburns. Well, Jon's, anyways. We met a great server - the here-pictured Jenny - and her friend Lisa.
Great gals, we're going to visit them again. Took care of us the entire week. Introduced us to "Skinny Bitches" and "Skinny Bastards." We can't thank her enough.
After more socializing at Duke's, we hit the clubs. Tsunami's has to be the most ghetto club in the city - and they charge $20 for two drinks. But again, welcome to Hawaii, howli.
Day 3.
The beach beckons. It's back to the Royal Hawaiian.
More sun. More tanning. The iPod speakers spinning some Bob and other reggae greats all day. It's rejuvenating and relaxing. We meet a local named Mike - a very chill dude - while having lunch at our beachfront hotel bar. He gives us the low-down on what's around, plus gives us some language tips to make us seem like locals. Broke da mouth has officially become part of my vocabulary.
Duke's for dinner - it's destined to be our "launching pad" all night, then out to Zanzibar, where we tried to get into on Wednesday, but the line was too long. (Funny story about that - I tried to convince the doorman my friends were inside. He hands me his phone and says "Call them," obviously calling my bluff.
I checked my cellphone voicemail instead. From Hawaii. Three messages.)
The air conditioning is broke, and I don't mean broke da mouth. It's hot inside - sweltering - but we settle in and have some drinks. Yetman sweats through his shirt, it's so hot. But we meet Ashlee (pictured here), who turns out to be a darling. She gets us on the guest list for Saturday.
Jon meets this stunning server, or, at least, thinks he does. I chat her up, cause Jon is in his "Prima Donna I'm Too Good To Approach Anyone" phase. I send her over there, cause he refuses to talk to anyone. Winds up getting her number, but that's a story for a little later on.
In the meantime, this local Hawaiian girl offers me her sister. Yes, offers me. Her. Hot. Sister. I'm dumbfounded. Gobsmacked, as they say in good ol' britain. I sense danger, so I politely decline, and we get the **ck out of dodge.
Day 4.
The morning trips to the gym have stopped. Our beach forays have become very, umm, "relaxed." Very few social encounters.
Basically, we've hit the wall.
We head to Duke's for dinner, planning to call it an early night. Instead, a few Skinny Bitches and Bastards, and we're primed and ready to roll. We people-watch for a while, hit up a few ladies, then head off to Moose's, because Zanzibar is off-limits tonight. Jon doesn't want to appear desperate, you see.
Moose's turns into a gong show. We get used as decoys - oh, that was fun - and I get picked up by a navy girl. More stiff drinks, more $16 hotdogs. They are dammned good, though.
Day 5.
SATURDAY!
Beach action again. We have yet to break out of a one-mile radius, and have started to become treated as regulars at our regular spots. No waiting in line for drinks, prime tables, friendly service. Our tans have gotten to the point where we don't look like we're fresh off the boat. We say things like "Bra" and "Mahalo" and "Kekua."
After our day of sunning, we hit the University of Hawaii-Purdue football game at Aloha Stadium. Our first non-partying activity.
We limo it there, cause that's how we roll. We're players, ya'll.
After spending 15 minutes trying to find the will-call line where our tickets are, we finally spot it - it's the one with the huge-ass line. We stand there, listening to some drunken frat boy and his friends from Purdue, shout "Meatloaf! Now! Meatloaf."
Then crack up like it's the funniest thing ever. He's clearly irritating everyone in line, so when Hawaii scores first, everyone in line yells in unison "Meatloaf! Now!" It's the funniest thing ever. And it shuts him up.
We finally get our tickets, which were strategically bought for the nosebleeds, for maximum atmospheric effect. We wanted the REAL UH experience.
Game Notes
- Hawaii has this big muscled samoan-looking dude as their mascot. When Hawaii scores a TD, all these male students get led out from a section to do push-ups. They start, they finish, and this big dude is still going. And going. And going. He makes the energizer bunny look like a Wal-mart rip-off. It's crazy. I swear he did like 100.
- Favourite pastime of people in the nosebleeds? Paper airplanes. It's like the invasion of pearl harbour, there are so many planes flying around. Most of them suck, but there are a couple that spread their wings and fly, eliciting massive cheers from the section. One lands at mid-field after a two minute flight, eliciting massive cheers from our section.
- I learn I can't make a decent paper airplane out of newsprint. It nosedives into the seats 20 feet in front of me.
- Hawaii, the nation's top-scoring team, leads 17-0 at the half. Purdue comes storming back, and takes the lead in the fourth quarter, making some crazy ESPN highlight-reel catches. Hawaii scores again to take the lead back, but Purdue scores twice to take a 10-point lead. The Boilermakers fans in the section next to us are going CRAZY. Nuts. Wild.
Yetmang and I decide to book it, cause we have to beat the rush to catch a cab back downtown. We stop at the merchandise booth to buy a hat, then hear this massive roar that shakes the stadium.
- We book it back inside - Hawaii has scored again. They get a turnover, then score again - 14 points in under a minute. The joint is ROCKING. Purdue gets the ball back. They're driving. They're moving the ball. Then, Hawaii's much-maligned secondary comes up with a HUGE interception with a minute left. 54 seconds and three knees later, it's all over.
- College bands are the coolest.
- UH's cheerleaders have two nine-year-old girls who are the most gifted dancers I've seen. They don't miss a move.
Hawaii wins on
VimeoDay 5 (the evening)
Zanzibar! And Jon is hyped. It's his chance to see Tina again.
We get there after a steak dinner at Chucks (Right above Duke's, coincidentally), and Jon's already feeling the effects of his drinks. I guess the Yetman is human after all. In his boozed state, he absolutely messes everything up with this girl. Yes, he asks her to DANCE. While she's WORKING. On the BUSIEST night of the WEEK.
For shame. The game is weak. The finish is weaker. They're some minor pleading. It's no good, it's all over. He's, as they say in Hawaii, Pau.
Back to the hotel in disgrace.
Day 6.
Jon is feeling rough. I mean, green to the gills rough. And today is the day we hike up
Diamond Head. It's supposed to take an hour to get to the top. We do it in 15 minutes, passing old and young alike. I have never sweat so much in my life, though.
The view is worth it, with a 360 degree view of Honolulu and the surrounding area. The crater is actually an old world-war II observation post, complete with bunkers. Kind of reminds me of Beacon Hill Park in Victoria, except on a much huger scale.
The workout was good - it was nice to purge the vodka from my system. As we walk back down to the bottom, we spot some older dude resting on the steps. He looks pale... even under his tan.
Ten minutes later, we hear sirens; four fire trucks pull up, and two guys in full gear go racing up the steps. A helicopter buzzes the hill, and an ambulance pulls up. Apparently, the dude had a heart attack. It was the second of the day.
We hoof it back to the downtown core, reading a couple real-estate magazines, and making plans...
It's time for our sunset cruise on the Na Hoku II, the most popular catamaran in Waikkiki. We head out on the water, taking full advantage of the open bar, and it.... starts to rain. After waiting a week to take a ride, it's freaking raining. But it don't matter - we chill out to some old school reggae, and chat to the leather-skinned Captain John John. By the end of the trip, we have two job offers. Nine months from now, we plan on taking them...
It's back to Dukes after the trip - the Na Hoku docks right in front - for some dinner and drinks. A chill evening, mostly just watching people and chatting up random girls. At least, I was. Apparently Jon is too pretty to do that. lol
Day 7.
Ahh, Monday.
I'm trying to remember what we did, but it's all kind of blurring together. AH! Right.
We rented a Jeep ($40!!!) and started touring the island. We went East, past Diamond Head, up towards
Hanauma Bay.
We stop, take some pictures, but pass on the snorkeling because rough water had cut down on the visibility. So on up the coast, with a couple stops here and there, including one at the drug store, cause Jonny slipped and gashed his leg on some coral.
After getting lost a couple times, we hit the H3 and go cross-island to the North Shore, where the women's Vans World Cup of Surfing was being held. The north shore is TIGHT. Beaches, great surf, sun. And nothing is sexier than a surfer girl... MMMMmmmm. We chilled there for a bit, but the competition was cancelled due to low surf. Oh, well... we saw a couple of the pros practicing, anyways.
We head back downtown, on the hunt for Dog the Bounty Hunter's office, but stop at the Dole Plantation instead. Yep - we pass on Beth's melons for Dole's pineapples. The yogurt there was really good, though. I'd recommend a visit, even if it is the cheesiest tourist thing you can do.
We head back to town, drop off the Jeep, then change and go out for dinner. Chuck''s again, but this time, I get a big-ass steak. God, my mouth is watering just thinking about it..
Downstairs to Duke's, we chillax again. Lisa takes care of us, and we pen a note of thanks to Jenny for her to pass on.
We head out to Bobby G's for some live reggae afterwards. This was the bar where one of Bush's (he was visiting) White House staffers got beaten up outside of. Club was hot to death (as they say in NY). We get hit on by a gay Miller's beer rep. He tries to tempt us with free bottle sleeves, and then with his beer girl. No dice.
We head back to Moose's. It's dead. One stiff Skinny Bitch and Bastard later, we're out the door.
We run into some girls from Vancouver, of all places, who recognized us from the beach. We were "The hot guys with the canadian flag on your backpack."
There's some stories intertwined here ... but let's just say it was a late night after that. :D
Day 8
It's all over. Actually, it's not. Our flight doesn't leave until midnight.
I head out to do a little surfing while Jon the Princess does some shopping. Bad move on my part, because I do it at the end of the week when I'm wiped, and I do it on an empty stomach. Halfway through my two-hour session, whether it's the hole in my belly or all the salt water I've swallowed, I get this wave of nausea. I can barely paddle my way back to shore, but make it - after half an hour.
After that, we grab some lunch, then pass out by the pool - the first time all week we've been there. We check the bags, then head to, you guessed it, Dukes for dinner. We say bye to Jenny and Lisa, then head to the airport.
Day 8 (or nine, depending on how you look at it)
I can't sleep on the plane. We land in Vancouver, and it looks like the North Pole. Of course, we land at the furthest gate from the terminal. The gate that isn't heated. The gate with ice on the ground. And me in flip-flops and a t-shirt. That was the coldest walk EVER.
Same thing in K-town, except we have to walk OUTSIDE before we get in the building. I get home, try to grab a couple hours' sleep in MY OWN BED (heaven), then walk outside to shovel off my car.
I think...
Hawaii. Nine months. I'll be back. For good.
Yes, the haters were out in full Christmas effect.
