Your captain has turned on the Drinking sign, feel free to do shots about the cabin.
I saw Hawaii. The seriously commercial part of it. On the 31st floor, overlooking the ocean, it sounded as though the entire island hummed as a huge air conditioner. Despite that, I still have a few stories to tell. Though, when I tell them, I feel as though I trying to explain an episode of The Office (American).
I arrived in Hawaii with a fervor to drink, dance, and socialize. It wasn't until the fourth day, the last day, that I realized one comes to Hawaii to lounge in the sun and count the subtle clinks of ice cubes sliding about in your glass.
Hawaii felt like a huge exercise in parallel playing. People relaxingly moved about the streets and the beaches, welcoming the random onset of social interaction. However, they took no interest in intertwining for a short segment (i.e. a meal, a drink, etc.) after such an intersection. Save for some incredible Aussies, that i mistook for Kiwis, that found themselves on holiday.
This social faltering could have very well been the result of any number of reasons. The most prominent, in my mind, is that our group did not belong to the set of company that was complimentary or parallel. Two men, drunk since noon, perhaps present a dangerous image in the minds of people, no matter the amount of genuineness I attempted to slurringly instill in them.
lizarose:
i want to call you but you work all day. *sigh* when will you come to the park with baby o. and i?