With Thursday came the realization that my vacation was nearly over. That’s about the time that I begin to get sad, but my friend was by in the morning (after my sunbathing, of course) to cheer me up. Since I’d promised to send those “snacks” to my boss’ boss’ boss, he took me to the Post Office on Saratoga Road to pick up some Priority Mail Boxes and labels. He dropped me back at the hotel with a pinky promise to see me the next afternoon after lunch to say goodbye. I promptly packed the snacks, labeled the box and returned to the Post Office. The Post Office on Saratoga Road is a breath of fresh air in comparison to the ones in San Francisco. Here the postal employees are as slow as snails, robot-like, surly more often than not, lines are long and the machine to mail packages is generally broken. It was quite the opposite on Saratoga Road; the line was short, and the postal employees were not only quick and efficient, but NICE!
Lunch was at Rainbow Drive-In, my only time to eat there on this trip. A tourist family of 7 had just placed a huge order, with several changes. The cashier took it all in stride, getting things out quickly and repeating everything to make sure that the orders were correct. I nearly passed out waiting in line for them to finish, but finally got my mini loco moco and soda.
In the midst of this trip, my Aussie friend had gone to Kauai. She was flying back to Honolulu that evening and wanted to meet for dinner, drinks or whatever. I decided to eat at the bar at P.F. Chang’s, expecting that she’d join me as soon as she’d checked into her hotel. I ordered kung pao chicken with steamed white rice and a Heineken. Unfortunately for me, I seem to be a magnet for drunken old men. Chet, a tourist from Colorado, sat down next to me. He apparently comes to Hawaii 2 or 3 times per year. When he wasn’t calling the female bartenders by name, he was referring to them (and me) as “darling.” He was inebriated far beyond what is normal; having trouble walking and even having difficulty staying in his seat. What annoyed me most was that he kept running his finger along my Polynesian cross tattoo on my inner right forearm. Not only did it creep me out, but people touching me is my number one pet peeve. When my food arrived, the bartender placed the serving plate between us. Without asking, Chet grabbed a few pieces of chicken with his fingers and popped them into his mouth. I was appalled, but decided to serve myself from the opposite end of the plate from where he’d stuck his fingers. Awhile later, he simply picked up the serving spoon and took a few more bites. By then, I’d lost my appetite and simply quit eating. When his deep fried whole snapper arrived and he’d eaten 98% of it, he offered some to me, which I declined. He then offered me a glass of wine or champagne. They didn’t have champagne by the glass, though. Rather than waste more time browsing the wine list, I told them to simply bring me another Heineken. By then, he took the remains of my serving plate and poured it onto his plate. In the meantime, I furiously texted my Aussie friend to hurry the fuck up! When she arrived, she informed Chet that we had lots of girl talk to catch up on and dragged me down to the opposite end of the bar. “He was all over you!” she gasped. No shit, Sherlock! Why the hell do you think I was texting you to hurry up?! Before leaving, he came down to the end of the bar to introduce himself to my friend. He invited us for champagne at Roy’s and even offered to wait. We insisted that he start without us. To that, he drooled on our hands in farewell and FINALLY departed!
We had one quick drink at the Mai Tai Bar in The Royal Hawaiian Hotel, at which time I quizzed the bartenders if my “boyfriend” had been by. They laughed, said “no” and asked how the previous evening had gone. I assured them that David was quite the player, but not for me! Then my Aussie friend wanted to hit up Rumfire. Though it was rather quiet on a Thursday night, we stayed until closing. Afterwards, we walked to Addiction Nightclub in The Modern Hotel. Beings it was Ladies’ Night, we didn’t have to pay a cover. Although Rumfire tends to be tourists and military men, Addiction seems to be mostly locals, with better music and a younger crowd. She danced; I drank. Some sweet local guy apologized for leaning in front of me. Referring to my plumeria lei, he mentioned that I smelled incredible and asked what the occasion was. When I said that every day in Hawaii is special, he gave me a hug and a high five. By that time, my friend had met someone and texted me that she was leaving. I finished my drink, some guy gave me his phone number and I walked back to my hotel.
