Hawaii Again
Every time I do a lot of drugs, my mind goes a mile a minute. I think about so much in that little span of time, even while completely immersed in conversation or activity, that to write about it after the fact would be completely and utterly pointless. Every time I’ve done mushrooms, I’ve wanted a word processor or notepad or cassette recorder. Next time, I’m gona do that. I think way to fucking much and over-analyze everything. I went to Canada this past weekend for Tom’s 21st birthday. Erin from UNH came, Gosian and Tom from Foxboro came, and we picked up Matty at UVM. It was an amazing time, but like I said, I don’t think I could write about it even if I tried, you had to be there. Instead, gona write more about Hawaii, specifically, another bar experience I had.
It was a long day, and it started early. I think we spent that day on the beach, and browsing around one of the city centers of Maui where we did some shopping, and went out for a nice dinner. We got back around 8ish, and I went to the bar at the hotel to wind down the night, or so I thought.
I got to the bar, and was talking with my new friend, Jack (the bartender) about Maui, how he came to live out here, just shooting the shit. I was a few drinks in, and had a good buzz going on. “Shit man, this is some pretty decent music” I said referring to the local band that was covering a Sublime song “I’d like to here some jazz though, any jazz clubs around here, jack”. He informed me of a nice place, not to far on Front St. (lots of clubs/bars/shopping) called the Paradise Bluz. I told him I would have to check it out Friday or Saturday night. “It IS Friday night buddy”. I swear to god, if there’s any place that will make you lose track of time, it’s Maui. I stood up “FUCK!” I exclaimed, “Thanks man!” I paid, and got up and left. It was about 9:30pm at this point. I went to the front desk, had them call a taxi, ran to the room and informed my parents I was going “out” although I don’t think they fully grasped the concept till much later that evening due to the fact that they were 90% asleep when I told them.
I didn’t even get carded at the hotel bar, or during happy hour (which was in a separate area than the bar) so I figured I could swing getting into a nice jazz club in Hawaii. So I find my way to the club, and it wasn’t busy yet, so I talk with the bouncers a bit and ask about the bar, then go to walk in, and was stopped short; “Sir, can I see your ID?” Donning a nice button-down shirt, goatee in full bloom with some gelled hair and a dash of cologne, I worked my magic. “Well, I’d love to give you my ID, but very unfortunately, I’m not able to do so…. I was at black rock beach today, and I left my backpack on the shore by my cabana, after I had come back from jumping off the rock cliff, I wanted to go get a drink, but my wallet was stolen from my backpack!” The bouncer now seemed generally concerned, and asked me why I had left my backpack alone, and if I had heard of the thievery that goes on sometimes with the locals and tourists. I gave him some story that I didn’t know, and didn’t think the locals came to that part, and that I was on the phone all day with bank companies and American Express to get my travelers checks reimbursed. The only money I had was the $100 I had in the safe, which I had planned to use to drown my worries and anxieties away. “What’s your date of birth?” “July 28th, 1980” I said with confidence. He asked me my social security number, and I rattled it off instantly. “Ok man, I’m gona let you in, I’m sorry about what happened to your wallet and all the questions, but you wouldn’t believe some of the excuses we get around here” “Hey man, you’re just doing your job, I understand, don’t worry about it”. I shook his hand and entered the bar.
It was quiet at first, the jazz band wasn’t even there yet, but there was music coming from the speakers. I sat down, and talked with the bartender. She was gorgeous, looked like she could have been a model or something. I informed her about my wallet thing, gave her some more emotional sympathy fodder, and eventually she started me off with a free drink. She wouldn’t tell me what it was, but I knew exactly what it was, a blue Hawaiian, one of my favorite mixed drinks. She was impressed I knew, I thanked her for the free drink, and ordered another; whiskey on the rocks, and talked with some guy from Ireland, forgot his name, but he was very drunk already. We played some pool, and I schooled him three times in a row, then he bought me a drink too, he got me another whiskey on the rocks. I was confused by this, because I’ve never even heard of a guy buying another random guy a drink. Maybe he was just really drunk, maybe he just genuinely liked me, maybe he thought I was even remotely Irish, or hell, maybe he was gay, but whatever, booze is booze. Shortly after, he went on to the dance floor, and started dancing to the techno (the jazz band was in the process of setting up) and I could hear him throughout the rest of the night yelling “AWWWOOOOO” at the top of his lungs in a high-pitched Irish voice.
The bar was filling up at this point, and the jazz band started playing shortly after. I was enjoying the music, ordering shots, and mixed drinks, or straight up liquor, I hadn’t talked to anyone in a little while, all the people around me were either engrossed in the music, or each other (many couples were there). Eventually an older woman (she was 38) sat next to me. Her name was Trish. We started talking about books, I mentioned I was reading the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test which is an amazing book you all should read, and she got really excited. She hadn’t read it, but knew of it, and apparently was really into acid. We had a long talk about drugs, trends with drugs, and how they differed across generations.
Eventually she left, and by this time, I had noticed the brunette that had sat down on the right of me. She was alone, sipping what I think was vodka on the rocks, looking very, very pensive. By this time, I was feeling the alcohol pretty good, so my already low inhibitions were nearly gone. “What’s on your mind?” I said. “Excuse me?” she seemed surprised. “I know that look…. Never mind, it’s not my business.” She eventually told me what it was that was pestering her. Her name was Debra, she was 27, from California (There were tons of Californians out there). She was a real-estate agent, doing very well for herself. She said she needed time off from the real world, so she decided to take a month long vacation in Hawaii. Apparently, she had just been divorced. We had a long, long talk about relationships.
"AWWWOOOO" The Irish guy was getting kicked out, in style.
She was unhappily married for four years, she had been seeing the guy since high school, and was constantly in a state of melancholy. It must have been all she ever knew, my insight told me that she was afraid she couldn’t find anyone else, and that nobody would want her. She, like many women I’ve met, had little to no self esteem, and there was no reason for this to be so, she seemed genuinely nice, intelligent, she was a successful real estate agent, and pretty as well. One of the biggest and insightful things we talked about, was settling. She told me she settled for this guy, he was good enough, but she was afraid if she didn’t lock in to someone, and settle for something, she would never find anything (ah ha, I was right!). This is interesting, because I’m the opposite. Generally, 90% of the time, I have not settled. Very, very, extremely rarely does a female come around that I actually want to date In fact, only seven women in the history of me meeting women have I ever wanted to date. One of them I got to date and one of them I got to spend a night with. Because I don’t settle, I very rarely ever get women though. I told her, because of this, I was afraid that I would never find someone. I still am. College is the time in people’s lives where they generally meet the person with whom they will spend the remainder of their life with, I think it’s like 2/3 or something like that. College is halfway done, and I’m no closer now than when I started. She made a point though, those times I did find someone, even if it were for just one night, was it worth the wait, was it worth not settling? What if I had settled for someone else, would those opportunities have ever arisen? Would I have ever felt or got to experience what I did? She was right, I was very happy in those occasions, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. All the musings, all my wished, and all the good things I had ever imagined happening to me, I never imagined what happened to me on those two occasions, not in a million years, and something about that makes me smile, even if they didn’t work out how I wanted.
We talked more about random stuff, then we ended up going for a walk on the beach. She smoked me up, and even gave me a little bit. The stuff was incredible, whatever it was. Maybe Maui Wowie, the infamous, who knows? About this time, it was 3am, and she was talking about good beaches to have sex on. It was also at this time, that my parents called worried like crazy about me, wondering what the fuck happened. Oh yeah, I’m on vacation with my family. Instead of having sex on the beach, I had to make up some excuse to get back to my hotel. I told her it was my fiancé calling, she gave me a look like “Are you fucking serious” and seemed pretty down after that. Woops. I got back to the hotel at around 3:15, and my dad came out to make sure I was ok. My parent worry to god damn much. Honestly, it really pisses me off. It makes me feel like a little kid, and that they think I can’t handle myself, but whatever, it’s their nature, and it was their vacation, a family vacation too, not just mine. It wasn’t my place to make them worry all night.
Like I said, Hawaii was amazing. Aside from my bar stories, I went SCUBA diving in caves, cliff diving/jumping off a 35 foot cliff, then I went exploring, and found some locals who shoed me a 55 foot cliff, which I also jumped off. I went rock climbing the faces of said cliffs, because I could and it was awesome. Snorkeled, played with manta-rays, sea tutrtles, and other exotic fish. Hiked in the rain forest, had corona’s on the beach (like in the commercials), visited city districts, frequented happy hour nightly, and read 7 books. It was an amazing time, and you all should go there someday, or come visit me when I live there. More entries on the way, as well as Hawaii pics, at some point.
It was a long day, and it started early. I think we spent that day on the beach, and browsing around one of the city centers of Maui where we did some shopping, and went out for a nice dinner. We got back around 8ish, and I went to the bar at the hotel to wind down the night, or so I thought.
I got to the bar, and was talking with my new friend, Jack (the bartender) about Maui, how he came to live out here, just shooting the shit. I was a few drinks in, and had a good buzz going on. “Shit man, this is some pretty decent music” I said referring to the local band that was covering a Sublime song “I’d like to here some jazz though, any jazz clubs around here, jack”. He informed me of a nice place, not to far on Front St. (lots of clubs/bars/shopping) called the Paradise Bluz. I told him I would have to check it out Friday or Saturday night. “It IS Friday night buddy”. I swear to god, if there’s any place that will make you lose track of time, it’s Maui. I stood up “FUCK!” I exclaimed, “Thanks man!” I paid, and got up and left. It was about 9:30pm at this point. I went to the front desk, had them call a taxi, ran to the room and informed my parents I was going “out” although I don’t think they fully grasped the concept till much later that evening due to the fact that they were 90% asleep when I told them.
I didn’t even get carded at the hotel bar, or during happy hour (which was in a separate area than the bar) so I figured I could swing getting into a nice jazz club in Hawaii. So I find my way to the club, and it wasn’t busy yet, so I talk with the bouncers a bit and ask about the bar, then go to walk in, and was stopped short; “Sir, can I see your ID?” Donning a nice button-down shirt, goatee in full bloom with some gelled hair and a dash of cologne, I worked my magic. “Well, I’d love to give you my ID, but very unfortunately, I’m not able to do so…. I was at black rock beach today, and I left my backpack on the shore by my cabana, after I had come back from jumping off the rock cliff, I wanted to go get a drink, but my wallet was stolen from my backpack!” The bouncer now seemed generally concerned, and asked me why I had left my backpack alone, and if I had heard of the thievery that goes on sometimes with the locals and tourists. I gave him some story that I didn’t know, and didn’t think the locals came to that part, and that I was on the phone all day with bank companies and American Express to get my travelers checks reimbursed. The only money I had was the $100 I had in the safe, which I had planned to use to drown my worries and anxieties away. “What’s your date of birth?” “July 28th, 1980” I said with confidence. He asked me my social security number, and I rattled it off instantly. “Ok man, I’m gona let you in, I’m sorry about what happened to your wallet and all the questions, but you wouldn’t believe some of the excuses we get around here” “Hey man, you’re just doing your job, I understand, don’t worry about it”. I shook his hand and entered the bar.
It was quiet at first, the jazz band wasn’t even there yet, but there was music coming from the speakers. I sat down, and talked with the bartender. She was gorgeous, looked like she could have been a model or something. I informed her about my wallet thing, gave her some more emotional sympathy fodder, and eventually she started me off with a free drink. She wouldn’t tell me what it was, but I knew exactly what it was, a blue Hawaiian, one of my favorite mixed drinks. She was impressed I knew, I thanked her for the free drink, and ordered another; whiskey on the rocks, and talked with some guy from Ireland, forgot his name, but he was very drunk already. We played some pool, and I schooled him three times in a row, then he bought me a drink too, he got me another whiskey on the rocks. I was confused by this, because I’ve never even heard of a guy buying another random guy a drink. Maybe he was just really drunk, maybe he just genuinely liked me, maybe he thought I was even remotely Irish, or hell, maybe he was gay, but whatever, booze is booze. Shortly after, he went on to the dance floor, and started dancing to the techno (the jazz band was in the process of setting up) and I could hear him throughout the rest of the night yelling “AWWWOOOOO” at the top of his lungs in a high-pitched Irish voice.
The bar was filling up at this point, and the jazz band started playing shortly after. I was enjoying the music, ordering shots, and mixed drinks, or straight up liquor, I hadn’t talked to anyone in a little while, all the people around me were either engrossed in the music, or each other (many couples were there). Eventually an older woman (she was 38) sat next to me. Her name was Trish. We started talking about books, I mentioned I was reading the Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test which is an amazing book you all should read, and she got really excited. She hadn’t read it, but knew of it, and apparently was really into acid. We had a long talk about drugs, trends with drugs, and how they differed across generations.
Eventually she left, and by this time, I had noticed the brunette that had sat down on the right of me. She was alone, sipping what I think was vodka on the rocks, looking very, very pensive. By this time, I was feeling the alcohol pretty good, so my already low inhibitions were nearly gone. “What’s on your mind?” I said. “Excuse me?” she seemed surprised. “I know that look…. Never mind, it’s not my business.” She eventually told me what it was that was pestering her. Her name was Debra, she was 27, from California (There were tons of Californians out there). She was a real-estate agent, doing very well for herself. She said she needed time off from the real world, so she decided to take a month long vacation in Hawaii. Apparently, she had just been divorced. We had a long, long talk about relationships.
"AWWWOOOO" The Irish guy was getting kicked out, in style.
She was unhappily married for four years, she had been seeing the guy since high school, and was constantly in a state of melancholy. It must have been all she ever knew, my insight told me that she was afraid she couldn’t find anyone else, and that nobody would want her. She, like many women I’ve met, had little to no self esteem, and there was no reason for this to be so, she seemed genuinely nice, intelligent, she was a successful real estate agent, and pretty as well. One of the biggest and insightful things we talked about, was settling. She told me she settled for this guy, he was good enough, but she was afraid if she didn’t lock in to someone, and settle for something, she would never find anything (ah ha, I was right!). This is interesting, because I’m the opposite. Generally, 90% of the time, I have not settled. Very, very, extremely rarely does a female come around that I actually want to date In fact, only seven women in the history of me meeting women have I ever wanted to date. One of them I got to date and one of them I got to spend a night with. Because I don’t settle, I very rarely ever get women though. I told her, because of this, I was afraid that I would never find someone. I still am. College is the time in people’s lives where they generally meet the person with whom they will spend the remainder of their life with, I think it’s like 2/3 or something like that. College is halfway done, and I’m no closer now than when I started. She made a point though, those times I did find someone, even if it were for just one night, was it worth the wait, was it worth not settling? What if I had settled for someone else, would those opportunities have ever arisen? Would I have ever felt or got to experience what I did? She was right, I was very happy in those occasions, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. All the musings, all my wished, and all the good things I had ever imagined happening to me, I never imagined what happened to me on those two occasions, not in a million years, and something about that makes me smile, even if they didn’t work out how I wanted.
We talked more about random stuff, then we ended up going for a walk on the beach. She smoked me up, and even gave me a little bit. The stuff was incredible, whatever it was. Maybe Maui Wowie, the infamous, who knows? About this time, it was 3am, and she was talking about good beaches to have sex on. It was also at this time, that my parents called worried like crazy about me, wondering what the fuck happened. Oh yeah, I’m on vacation with my family. Instead of having sex on the beach, I had to make up some excuse to get back to my hotel. I told her it was my fiancé calling, she gave me a look like “Are you fucking serious” and seemed pretty down after that. Woops. I got back to the hotel at around 3:15, and my dad came out to make sure I was ok. My parent worry to god damn much. Honestly, it really pisses me off. It makes me feel like a little kid, and that they think I can’t handle myself, but whatever, it’s their nature, and it was their vacation, a family vacation too, not just mine. It wasn’t my place to make them worry all night.
Like I said, Hawaii was amazing. Aside from my bar stories, I went SCUBA diving in caves, cliff diving/jumping off a 35 foot cliff, then I went exploring, and found some locals who shoed me a 55 foot cliff, which I also jumped off. I went rock climbing the faces of said cliffs, because I could and it was awesome. Snorkeled, played with manta-rays, sea tutrtles, and other exotic fish. Hiked in the rain forest, had corona’s on the beach (like in the commercials), visited city districts, frequented happy hour nightly, and read 7 books. It was an amazing time, and you all should go there someday, or come visit me when I live there. More entries on the way, as well as Hawaii pics, at some point.