Honolulu Weekly

We survived. There was a period there where it was pretty iffy, but I managed not to vomit on anyone, and we hit nine of our original 16 targets. Best of all, we didn’t kill the intern. If anything, he survived the night with more panache than any of us.

More than me, in any case. I was nervous going in, but I never honestly thought I would be rendered speechless for a substantial portion of the evening. Somewhere between the wine bar and the gay bar, I got completely lost. But it’s a bar crawl. That’s kind of the point.

In retrospect, we would have done a few things differently. We’d have left a little later and moved a little quicker, for sure, and I would probably have stuck to beer and cocktails–the wine at Pane and Vino was delicious, but it was far too late to throw all those sulfites into the mix.

Also, if I had it to do over again, I would definitely be younger. A lot younger.

Overall, I was pleased. The limo was definitely the right call, as was the size of our crew. As I write this, we’re not yet far enough removed in time to offer any predictions about the Honolulu Weekly Bar Crawl becoming an annual event, but we saw a lot of great watering holes and had a hell of an evening.

Note: I’m obligated to ask you not to try this at home, but if you do, please remember to travel safely and drink responsibly.