In previous posts, I mentioned how I was in Hawaii recently. My mother underwent surgery and thankfully it went well. Prior to that I had been in Guam to attend my sister in law’s funeral.
During the time I was in Hawaii, insomnia took the best of me and I would spend my nights at a gay bar called Hula’s on Waikiki Beach. This bar has been there for years and has a balcony that runs the length of the entire bar.
The guys can lean back and look over and see all the surfers walk pass on the sidewalk below. While I was there it was like an eye candy parade of Abercrombie and Fitch models and Island boy beauties. These mostly straight surfer dudes did not seem to mind the cat calls from the boys on the balcony. There were too many returned smiles.
However, during my visit at Hula’s I felt like any amateur writer, I was absorbing all the personalities and and stories there. I met individuals from all over the world that came to enjoy the beauty that is Hawaii.
There was Alan from Germany… he was the unabashed flirt. There was Alex from Los Angeles, the witty one who kept us laughing and was cynical about almost everything. However, he really cared deep down inside. There were the retireds who were enjoying their financial freedom. There was Rob from San Francisco spending time with his 14 year old son. There was the bartender John from Moby Dick’s in San Francisco visiting his boyfriend, Mark from Tahiti. There were my Aussie friends vacationing and partying like twenty something year olds do all over the world. The list goes on and on.
The point is, I was able to hear their stories. I got lost in the stories of their lives that I forgot my sadness. I was able to laugh.
It was more than going out for a few drinks for me at a gay bar. I needed a place to go to feel again. I was numb from the impact of the recent weeks and from a lot of my own personal stuff. These people were helping me feel alive again. Thank , God. I thought I was losing that part of me.