Freshly back from Hawaii, my wife and I were once again reminded that stupidity knows no bounds and stops at no shores.
While there will no doubt be endless on-air stories to share, (most notably about scourge of horrendous customer service that there is clearly no escape from), a few things stuck out that seemed ripe for this space.
Admittedly, my wife and I partially set ourselves up for this. We decided in late May that we desperately needed to get away; in a mere four weeks later. Absent our usual ability to plan ahead and secure ideal accommodations, we dove in on a few recommendations from friends and relatively scant research (by our standards). Thus, we wound up at a “luxury” resort (as opposed to renting a house as we would usually do) which meant that after each day of snorkeling, helicopter riding, eating, hiking, ATV-ing and such, we weren’t able to merely escape into our private hideaway from the world; rather, we had to further navigate the scum that is humanity.
Was it really that bad, you ask? Well, yeah, kinda. As I always argue, perspective runs in both directions. Yes, we were in “paradise,” with each other, genuinely enjoying ourselves. We could have been home, we could have been working, we could not be in a financial position to even take such trips. But to argue that we should just be happy with that is also the definition of loser talk. To be in “paradise,” having spent a large portion of our hard-earned money on being there, and then be subjected to rude, arrogant, apathetic, miserable, stupid people is an unacceptable reality that we both accept and loathe. And so, we try to make a game out of it; identifying the worst of the worst and, when applicable, taking inventory.
For example, we lost count of the truly miserable parents. To be fair, the men seemed far more miserable, but there were very few happy looking parents in general, and those who were had just arrived; by their second or third day on the island, the life had visibly drained entirely from them. And who could have predicted that. Oh, wait, I know…anyone with a brain. Taking kids to Hawaii on vacation is the epitome of something that sounds like a great idea until it’s a reality. We overheard parent after parent muttering some form of “we are never doing this again,” or “what were we thinking bringing them,” or “why did we even come to Hawaii?” In a lighter moment, as we were preparing to board our flight from Honolulu to Hawaii, there was a family of 5; mom, dad, both fat and miserable, and three teenage children, probably ranging from 14-19. The 19-year-old son says to the youngest daughter “it’s about an hour drive from the airport to the hotel,” to which the girl says “dad says it’s only half an hour.” Dad, praying for death already, looks at his son and says “it’s a 35-minute drive. About an hour.” At that moment, everyone, including Christina and me, looked around awkwardly searching for sense. None was found.
Speaking of flying, what in the actual hell has happened to any semblance of manners while on a plane, vis a vie with electronics. As most people know, as we land, our phones reacquire service, particularly on ocean flights when Wifi is unavailable until we reach land again. Fine…as we land, and texts and emails begin to flood in, TURN OFF YOUR NOTIFICATION SOUNDS! Jesus, it sounded like a never-ending download of constantly refreshing texts and emails and seemingly everyone thought it was just fine to serenade the plane with their dumbass ringtones.
And then of course, there are followers and ruiners. Christina and I like to do our own thing; and we follow a very simple rule; we’ll leave you alone, you leave us alone. On day 1, we went snorkeling at a beautiful spot called two-step. Upon our arrival, we scoped out a hundred or so people swimming and snorkeling all in one spot; not only not very safe (given the fact that a lot of people neither know nor follow snorkeling rules and etiquette) but not fun looking either.
So, we made a sharp right and headed towards an abandoned area, over many rocks, which led to a perfect snorkeling area. Not only peaceful and deserted, but also perfectly festooned with a sitting rock, halfway into the ocean; the ideal spot to launch from and snorkel in peace. For a little while, anyway. Now, admittedly, my wife can’t walk anywhere without being noticed, and especially in a bikini, but this was ridiculous. It was as though we had channeled Lewis and Clark and traversed the Continental Divide. There are few qualities I despise more in humanity than cowardice and the willingness to lead. Once we had shown the way, the floodgates opened and before we had completed our second swim of enjoying gorgeous fish, stunningly beautiful white sand ocean bottoms and even a few turtles, we were surrounded by jackalopes who had relocated to the best spot and were now demonstrating all of the things you shouldn’t do when snorkeling. No etiquette involving the in-and-out procedure, sloppy fin work slapping people in the face and just outright rudeness. We particularly enjoyed the alleged “man” who was snorkeling while using a ring float…you know, like what you give a toddler to stay above the water; except for the fact that this fatty was older than me (and hairier than a Brillo pad). Meanwhile, his wife sat hogging the sitting rock as people tried to come and go and she was being comforted by a local who was telling her everything wrong about the ocean and snorkeling. As we came in for our landing, the proper area being hogged (literally) by the wife and the local, I made my way around them, intentionally, to the backside of the rocks, guiding Christina with me, and knowing exactly what I was doing (which was using the current to float me to an alternative exit point). As we removed our masks, the local began lecturing me on the dangers of being in an “eddy,” which is nothing more than a circular current which can be used to your advantage as we were doing. Somehow, I maintained my composure and said “thank you ma’am, I appreciate that,” while Christina looked at me in shock at my restraint. Of course, I then continued, talking to me wife in the loudest tone possible to point out “It may have been 30 years ago but I was a god-damned ocean certified life guard, I’m pretty sure I know more than a fat-ass who lectures people on the ocean but never gets in.” We left at that point.
By the way…the other thing we noticed after 7 days in Hawaii was this; we didn’t see ANY attractive people. Like zero. There was one guy, a surfer, probably 65, in the shape of a 25-year-old who was running a shop in Kona. Other than that, total bowzers. Just gross.
And another thing…why do people travel to Hawaii and then sit by the hotel swimming pool? Often times with their back to the ocean? What in the actual hell? I seriously need that one explained to me…the beach, the ocean…is RIGHT THERE! Why are you lying by the pool?
As I write this on Saturday afternoon, Christina and I are just laughing hysterically at not just these, but so many other stories, incidents, and examples of human rubbish. And we’re already planning our next trip to Hawaii…in a rental home!
